Lord, if Thine Eyes Survey Our Faults

Lord

if Thine eyes sur­vey our faults

And jus­tice grows se­vere

Thy dread­ful wrath ex­ceeds our thoughts

And burns be­yond our fear.

Thine an­ger turns our frame to dust;

By one of­fense to Thee

Adam with all his sons have lost

Their im­mor­tal­ity.

Life like a vain am­use­ment flies

A fa­ble or a song;

By swift de­grees our na­ture dies

Nor can our joys be long.

’Tis but a few whose days amount

To three­score years and ten;

And all be­yond that short ac­count

Is sor­row

toil

and pain.

Our vi­tals with la­bor­ious strife

Bear up the cra­zy load

And drag those poor re­mains of life

Along the tire­some road.

Almighty God

re­veal Thy love

And not Thy wrath alone;

O let our sweet ex­pe­ri­ence prove

The mer­cies of Thy throne.

Our souls would learn the heav’n­ly art

T’improve the hours we have

That we may act the wis­er part

And live be­yond the grave.