Thy providence is kind and large,
Both man and beast thy bounty share;
The whole creation is thy charge,
But saints are thy peculiar care.
— Isaac Watts
Jesus Christ’s Death
Was it for crimes that I had done,
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! Grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!
— Isaac Watts
Election
Why was I made to hear thy voice,
And enter while there’s room;
When thousands make a wretched choice,
And rather starve then come?
‘Twas the same love that spread the feast,
That sweetly forced us in,
Else we had still refused to taste,
And perished in our sin.
— Isaac Watts
Submission
Father, I wait thy daily will, Thou shalt divide my portion still, Grant me on earth what seems thee best, Till death and heaven reveal the rest.
— Isaac Watts
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