Lord! I have made thy word my choice,
My lasting heritage;
There shall my noblest powers rejoice,
My warmest thoughts engage.
2 I'll read the histories of thy love,
And keep thy laws in sight,
While through the promises I rove,
With ever fresh delight.
3 'Tis a broad land of wealth unknown
Where springs of life arise;
Seeds of immortal bliss are sown,
And hidden, glory lies.
4 The best relief that mourners have --
It makes our sorrows blest;
Our fairest hope, beyond the grave,
And our eternal rest.
Isaac Watts, 1719.