Grace And Providence.

Almighty King! whose wondrous hand Supports the weight of sea and land, Whose grace is such a boundless store No heart shall break that sighs for more, Thy providence supplies my food, And 'tis thy blessing makes it good; My soul is nourish'd by thy word Let soul and body praise the Lord. My streams of outward comfort came From him, who built this earthly frame; Whate'er I want his bounty gives, By whom my soul for ever lives. Either his hand preserves from pain, Or, if I feel it, heals again; From Satan's malice shields my breast, Or over-rules it for the best. Forgive the song that falls so low Beneath the gratitude I owe! It means thy praise, however poor,— An angel's song can do no more.