1 God of my life, to thee belong
The thankful heart, the grateful song;
Touch'd by thy love, each tuneful chord
Resounds the goodness of the Lord.
2 Thou hast preserv'd my fleeting breath,
And chas'd the gloomy shades of death;
The venom'd arrows vainly fly,
When God our great Deliverer's nigh.
3 Yet why, dear Lord, this tender care?
Why does thy hand so kindly rear
A uselss cumberer of the ground,
On which no pleasant fruits are found?
4 Still may the barren fig-tree stand!
And, cultivated by thy hand,
Verdure, and bloom, and fruit afford,
Meet tribute to its bounteous Lord.
5 So shall thy praise employ my breath
Through life, and in the arms of death
My soul the pleasant theme prolong
Then rise to aid th'angelic song.