1 Great God, now condescend
To bless our rising race;
Soon may their willing spirits bend
To thy victorious grace!

2 O! what a vast delight
Their happiness to see!
Our warmest wishes all unite,
to lead their souls to thee.

3 Dear Lord, thy spirit pour
Upon our infant seed,
O bring the long'd-for happy hour
That makes them thine indeed,

4 May they receive thy word,
Confess the Savior's name;
Then follow their despised Lord,
Thro' the baptismal stream.

5 Thus let our favour'd race
Surround thy sacred board,
There to adore thy sovereign grace,
And sing their dying lord.