Verse 1
Thee, Lord, I joyfully confess
The sole Disposer of thine own,
If equal, or superior grace
Thou freely hast to others shown:
Their gifts with a malignant eye,
An envious wish, I cannot see;
But humbly on thy death rely
For all the good it bought for me.
Verse 2
If those who after me are come
Be honour’d and prefer’d before,
I will not to complain presume,
But humbled at thy feet adore:
I dare not in thy presence plead
My labours or my sufferings past,
Happy if, while I bow my head,
My soul is scarcely sav’d at last.