|THE volume of my Fatherís grace
Does all my thirst assuage;
Here I behold my Saviourís face
In almost every page.
|2||This is the field where hidden lies
The pearl of price unknown;
That merchant is divinely wise
Who makes the pearl his own.
|3||Here consecrated water flows
To purge my love of sin;
Here the fair tree of knowledge grows:
No danger dwells therein.
|4||Here is the judge that ends all strife,
Where wit and reason fail;
My guide to everlasting life
Through all this earthly vale.
|5||O may Thy counsels, mighty God,
My roving feet command,
Nor I forsake the happy road
That leads to Thy right hand.
|Isaac Watts, 1674-1748|