Thy favors, Lord, surprise our souls
by Isaac Watts·1707·Meter 8.8.8.8 (LM)
1
Thy favors, Lord, surprise our souls;
Will the Eternal dwell with us?
What canst thou find beneath the poles
To tempt thy chariot downward thus?
2
Still might he fill his starry throne,
And please his ears with Gabriel's songs;
But th' heav'nly Majesty comes down,
And bows to hearken to our tongues.
3
Great God! what poor returns we pay
For love so infinite as thine!
Words are but air, and tongues but clay;
But thy compassion's all divine.