1 My God, my King, thy various praise Shall fill the remnant of my days; Thy grace employ my humble tongue Till death and glory raise the song.
2 The wings of every hour shall bear Some thankful tribute to thine ear; And every setting sun shall see New works of duty done for thee.
3 Thy truth and justice I'll proclaim; Thy bounty flows, an endless stream, Thy mercy swift, thine anger slow, But dreadful to the stubborn foe.
4 Thy works with sovereign glory shine, And speak thy majesty divine; Let Britain round her shores proclaim The sound and honour of thy Name.
5 Let distant times and nations raise The long succession of thy praise; And unborn ages make my song The joy and labour of their tongue.
6 But who can speak thy wondrous deeds? Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds! Vast and unsearchable thy ways! Vast and immortal be thy praise!