Isaac Watts, 1674-1748
My spirit looks to God alone;|
My rock and refuge is his throne;
In all my fears, in all my straits,
My soul on his salvation waits.
2. Trust him, ye saints, in all your ways,
3. False are the men of high degree,
4. Make not increasing gold your trust,|
Nor set your hearts on glitt'ring dust
Why will you grasp the fleeting smoke,
And not believe what God has spoke?
5. Once has his awful voice declared,
6. For sovereign power reigns not alone,
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