The Psalms and Hymns of Isaac Watts ‎#III.12

III.12. Hymn 12

[How rich are thy provisions, Lord!
Thy table furnished from above!
The fruits of life o'erspread the board,
The cup o'erflows with heav'nly love.

Thine ancient family, the Jews,
Were first invited to the feast:
We humbly take what they refuse,
And Gentiles thy salvation taste.

We are the poor, the blind, the lame,
And help was far, and death was nigh;
But at the gospel-call we came,
And every want received supply.

From the highway that leads to hell,
From paths of darkness and despair,
Lord, we are come with thee to dwell,
Glad to enjoy thy presence here.]

[What shall we pay th' eternal Son,
That left the heav'n of his abode,
And to this wretched earth came down,
To bring us wand'rers back to God?

It cost him death to save our lives;
To buy our souls it cost his own;
And all the unknown joys he gives
Were bought with agonies unknown.

Our everlasting love is due
To him that ransomed sinners lost
And pitied rebels, when he knew
The vast expense his love would cost.]

Text Information

• First Line: How rich are thy provisions, Lord!
• Title: Hymn 12
• Author: Isaac Watts
• Meter: L. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1806
• Scripture:
  Luke 14:16

Tune Information

(No tune information)