Isaac Watts, 1674-1748
I waited patient for the Lord,|
He bowed to hear my cry;
He saw me resting on his word,
And brought salvation nigh.
2. He raised me from a horrid pit,
3. Firm on a rock he made me stand,
4. I'll spread his works of grace abroad;|
The saints with joy shall hear,
And sinners learn to make my God
Their only hope and fear.
5. How many are thy thoughts of love!
6. When I 'm afflicted, poor, and low,
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