Isaac Watts, 1674-1748
How fast their guilt and sorrows rise|
Who haste to seek some idol-god!
I will not taste their sacrifice,
Their offerings of forbidden blood.
2. My God provides a richer cup,
3. His love is my perpetual feast;|
By day his counsels guide me right;
And be his name for ever blessed,
Who gives me sweet advice by night.
4. I set him still before mine eyes;
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