Beneath Thy Mighty Hand, O God
Philip Doddridge, 1702-1751
Beneath Thy mighty hand, O God,
Our souls we prostrate low;
Shine forth with gentle radiant beams,
That we Thy name may know.
Thy hand this various frame produced,
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 sovereign 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.
