John Newton & William Cowper · 68 of 356
67. My God! how perfect are thy ways!
Hymn 67
My God! how perfect are thy ways! But mine polluted are; Sin twines itself about my praise, And slides into my prayer.
When I would speak what thou hast done To save me from my sin; I cannot make thy mercies known But self–applause creeps in.
Divine desire, that holy flame Thy creates in me; Alas! impatience is its name, When it returns to thee.
This heart, a fountain of vile thoughts, How does it overflow? While self upon the surface floats Still bubbling from below.
Let others in the gaudy dress Of fancied merit shine; The LORD shall be my The LORD for ever mine.