Sweet is the memory of thy grace,
      My God, my heav’nly King;

Sweet is the memory of thy grace,
      My God, my heav’nly King;
Let age to age thy righteousness
      In sounds of glory sing.

God reigns on high, but not confines
      His goodness to the skies;
Through the whole earth his bounty shines,
      And every want supplies.

With longing eyes thy creatures wait
      On thee for daily food;
Thy lib’ral hand provides their meat,
      And fills their mouths with good.

How kind are thy compassion’s, Lord!
      How slow thine anger moves!
But soon he sends his pard’ning word
      To cheer the souls he loves.

Creatures with all their endless race
      Thy power and praise proclaim;
But saints that taste thy richer grace
      Delight to bless thy name.

~ Isaac Watts