Classic Poem

I Wonder and admire oft,
How great that God must be,
That makes and governs all this Croud,
What Numbers do I see!

He knows the wish of every Heart,
And every Thought can tell;
The Name and Surname of them all,
And where each one does dwell.

And does he open wide his hand,
And give to all their Bread?
Oh! may I ne'er unmindfull be,
That thus I have been fed!

And do we ask our Bread of God?
For this some often pray:
And yet in Action contradict,
What thus in Word they say.

Will not the prosp'rous often say,
My Hand has got me Store?
And will that Man be often blam'd
Altho' indust'rous Poor.

Yea, blam'd in Providence to trust,
Who hardly Bread can find?
And this sometimes has troubled me,
Yet surely God is kind.

But in God's Book, his sacred Word,
There I true Knowledge find,
When e'er his Holy Spirit does,
Impress it on my Mind.

For there I find the Father is
Revealed in his Son;
And they in Spirit Worship him,
That right unto him come.

The Fathers know how to give gifts
Unto their Children dear;
And will not God his Spirit give
To those that do him fear?

And that he gives the greater Gift,
The less he'll not deny;
Increase my Faith, dear Lord, in thee—
I'll on thy Word rely.