Before Thee, Lord, a people waits To praise Thy Name in Zion’s gates, To Thee shall vows be paid; Thou Hearer of the suppliant’s prayer, To Thee in need shall all repair To seek Thy gracious aid. How great my trespasses appear; But Thou from guilt my soul will clear, And my transgressions hide. How blest Thy chosen, who by grace Are brought within Thy dwelling place That they may there abide. The goodness of Thy house, O Lord, The joys Thy holy courts afford, Our souls shall satisfy; By deeds of might, in justice wrought, The Lord will grant us what we sought, Our Savior, God Most High. On Thy sustaining arm depend, To earth and sea’s remotest end, All men in every age; Thy strength establishes the hills, Thy word the roaring billows stills, And calms the peoples’ rage. The tribes of earth’s remotest lands Behold the tokens of Thy hands And bow in godly fear; The east, where beams the morning light, The west, in evening glories bright, Rejoice, for Thou art near. |