- Of all the gifts Thine hand bestows,
- Thou Giver of all good!
- Not heaven itself a richer knows
- Than my Redeemer’s blood.
- Faith too, the blood-receiving grace,
- From the same hand we gain;
- Else, sweetly as it suits our case,
- That gift had been in vain.
- Till Thou Thy teaching power apply,
- Our hearts refuse to see,
- And weak, as a distemper’d eye,
- Shut out the view of Thee.
- Blind to the merits of Thy Son,
- What misery we endure!
- Yet fly that Hand from which alone
- We could expect a cure.
- We praise Thee, and would praise Thee more,
- To Thee our all we owe:
- The precious Saviour, and the power
- That makes Him precious too.
—William Cowper
More Cowper poetry:
- Jehovah Our Righteousness
- The Contrite Heart
- The New Convert
- Old Testament Gospel
- To the Immortal Memory of the Halibut
- Jehovah-Jesus
- Self-Acquaintance
On the life of Cowper: