Behold we come, dear Lord, to Thee;

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Behold we come, dear Lord, to Thee;
And bow before thy Throne:
We come to offer, on our knee,
Our vows to Thee alone.
What e're we have, what e're we are,
Thy bounty freely gave:
Thou dost us here in mercy spare;
And wilt hereafter save.
But O, can all our store afford
No better gifts for Thee?
Thus we confess thy riches, Lord;
And thus our poverty.
'Tis not our tongue or knee can pay
The mighty debt we ow:
Far more we should, than we can say,
Far lower than we bow.
Come then, my soul, bring all thy pow'rs,
And grieve thou hast no more:
Bring ev'ry day thy choycest hours,
And thy great God adore.
But above all, prepare thy hart,
On this his own blest Day:
In its sweet task to bear thy part,
And sing, and love, and pray.
Glory to Thee, Eternal Lord!
Thrice blessed Three in One:
Thy Name at all times be ador'd;
Till time it self be done.

© John Austin