Praise for Thee, Lord, in Zion Waits

Praise for Thee

Lord

in Zi­on waits;

Prayer shall be­siege Thy tem­ple gates;

All flesh shall to Thy throne re­pair

And find through Christ sal­va­tion there.

Our spir­its faint; our sins pre­vail:

Leave not our trem­bling hearts to fail.

O Thou that hear­est prayer

des­cend

And still be found the sin­ner’s friend.

How blest Thy saints! how safe­ly led;

How surely kept

how rich­ly fed!

Savior of all in earth and sea

How happy they who rest in Thee!

Thy hand sets fast the migh­ty hills

Thy voice the trou­bled ocean stills;

Evening and morn­ing hymn Thy praise

And earth Thou bou­nty wide dis­plays.

The year is with Thy goo­dness crowned

Thy clouds drop wealth the world around;

Through Thee the de­serts laugh and sing

And na­ture smiles and owns her king.

Lord

on our souls Thy in­flu­ence pour;

The mor­al waste with­in re­store;

O let Thy love our spring­tide be

And make us all bear fruit to Thee.