Now shall my inward joys arise,

And burst into a Song;

Almighty Love inspires my Heart,

And Pleasure tunes my Tongue.

God on his thirsty Sion-Hill

Some Mercy-Drops has thrown,

And solemn Oaths have bound his Love

To show’r Salvation down.

Why do we then indulge our Fears,

Suspicions and Complaints?

Is he a God, and shall his Grace

Grow weary of his saints?

Isaac Watts