My maker and my King, To Thee my all I owe, Thy sov'reign bounty is the spring, Whence all my blessings flow. The creature of Thy hand, On Thee alone I live; My God, Thy benefits demand, More praise than life can give. Shall I withhold Thy due, And shall my passions rove; Lord, form this wretched heart anew, And fill it with Thy love.