CCCXXXVIII. Humbling ourselves under GOD's mighty Hand.

BENEATH thy mighty Hand, O GOD,
Our Souls we prostrate low;
Shine forth with radiant gentle Beams,
That we thy Name may know.

Thy Hand this various Frame produc'd,
And still supports it well;
That Hand with Justice and with Ease
Might smite our Souls to Hell.

Conscious of Meanness and of Guilt,
We in the Dust would lie;
Stretch forth thy condescending Arm,
And lift the humble high.

So in the Temples of thy Grace
We'll sov'reign Mercy own,
And, when we shine above the Stars,
Extol thy Grace alone.

The more thou raise such sinful Dust,
The lower would it fall;
For less than nothing, LORD, are we,
And Thou art All in All.