95
S. M.
His mercy endureth for ever.
Psalm 103.
My soul, repeat his praise
Whose mercies are so great;
Whose anger is so slow to rise,
So ready to abate.
2 High as the heavens are raised
Above the ground we tread,
So far the riches of his grace
Our highest thoughts exceed.
3 His power subdues our sins,
And his forgiving love,
Far as the east is from the west,
Doth all our guilt remove.
4 The pity of the Lord,
To those that fear his name,
Is such as tender parents feel:
He knows our feeble frame.
5 Our days are as the grass,
Or like the morning flower:
If one sharp blast sweeps o’er the field,
It withers in an hour.
6 But thy compassions, Lord,
To endless years endure;
And children’s children ever find
Thy words of promise sure.
Watts.