FATHER, I bless Thy gentle hand;

FATHER, I bless Thy gentle hand; How kind was Thy chastising rod; That forced my conscience to a stand, And brought my wandering soul to God!

Foolish and vain, I went astray Ere I had felt Thy scourges, Lord; I left my guide, and lost my way; But now I love and keep Thy word.

' Tis good for me to wear the yoke, For pride is apt to rise and swell; ' Tis good to bear my Father's stroke. That I might learn His statutes well.

Thy hands have made my mortal frame, Thy Spirit form'd my soul within; Teach me to know Thy wondrous name, And guard me safe from death and sin.

Then all that love and fear the Lord, At my salvation shall rejoice; For I have hoped in Thy word, And made Thy grace my only choice.