Psalm XVII. Common Metre. The transforming vision of God

My God the visits of thy face Afford superior joy, To all the flattering world can give Or mortal hopes employ.

But clouds and darkness intervene, My brightest joys decline; And earth's gay trifles oft ensnare This wandering heart of mine.

Lord, guide this wandering heart to thee, Unsatisfy'd I stray; Break through the shades of sense and sin With thy enlivening ray.

O let thy beams resplendent shine And every cloud remove; Transform my powers and fit my soul For happier scenes above.

Lord raise my faith, my hope, my heart, To those transporting joys; Then shall I scorn each little snare, Which this vain world employs.

Then, tho' I sink in death's cold sleep, To life I shall awake; And in the likeness of my God, Of heavenly bliss partake.