O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home. Under the shadow of Thy throne Th… - Isaac Watts

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O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.

Under the shadow of Thy throne
Thy saints have dwelt secure;
Sufficient is Thine arm alone,
And our defense is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting Thou art God,
To endless years the same.

Thy Word commands our flesh to dust,
“Return, ye sons of men”:
All nations rose from earth at first,
And turn to earth again.

A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone;
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.

The busy tribes of flesh and blood,
With all their lives and cares,
Are carried downwards by the flood,
And lost in foll’wing years.

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the op’ning day.

Like flow’ry fields the nations stand
Pleased with the morning light;
The flow’rs beneath the mower’s hand
Lie with’ring ere ’tis night.

O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Be Thou our guard while troubles last,
And our eternal home.

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About Isaac Watts

Isaac Watts (17 July 1674 – 25 November 1748) was an English theologian, logician, and a prolific and popular hymnwriter. Known as the "Father of English Hymnody" he is credited with some 750 hymns, many of which remain in active use today.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Dr. Isaac Watts
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Lord, we confess our numerous faults, How great our guilt has been! Foolish and vain were all our thoughts, And all our lives were sin. 2 But O, my soul, for ever praise, For ever love his Name, Who turns thy feet from dangerous ways Of folly, sin, and shame. 3 'Tis not by works of righteousness Which our own hands have done; But we are sav'd by sovereign grace Abounding thro' his Son. 4 'Tis from the mercy of our God That all our hopes begin; 'Tis by the water and the blood Our souls are wash'd from sin. 5 'Tis thro' the purchase of his death, Who hung upon the tree,

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