The Goodness which GOD has wrought, and laid up for his People. Psal. xxxi. 19

Our Souls with pleasing Wonder view The Bounties of thy Grace; How much bestow'd; How much reserv'd For them that seek thy Face!

Thy lib'ral Hand with worldly Bliss Oft makes their Cup run o'er; And in the Cov'nant of thy Love They find diviner Store.

Here Mercy hides their num'rous Sins; Here Grace their Souls renews; Here thine own reconciled Face Doth heav'nly Beams diffuse.

But O! what Treasures yet unknown Are lodg'd in Worlds to come? If these th' Enjoyments of the Way, How happy is their Home?

And what shall mortal Worms reply? Or how such Goodness own? But 'tis our Joy that, LORD, to thee Thy Servants Hearts are known.

Thine Eyes shall read those grateful Thoughts, No Language can express: Yet when our liv'liest Thanks we pay, Our Debts do most increase.

Since Time's too short, All-gracious GOD, To utter half thy Praise, Loud to the Honour of thy Name Eternal Hymns we'll raise.