Oh hand of bounty, largely spread.
By whom our every want is fed,
Whate’er we touch, or taste, or see,
We owe them all, oh Lord! to Thee;
The corn, the oil, the purple wine,
Are all Thy gifts, and only Thine!
The stream Thy word to nectar dyed.
The bread Thy blessing multiplied,
The stormy wind, the whelming flood,
That silent at Thy mandate stood,
How well they knew Thy voice divine,
Whose works they were, and only Thine!
Though now no more on earth we trace
Thy footsteps of celestial grace,
Obedient to Thy word and will
We seek Thy daily mercy still;
Its blessèd beams around us shine.
And Thine we are, and only Thine!