God of my life, to thee I call

1God of my life, to thee I call;
The grateful heart, the joyful song;
Touched by thy love, my soul would raise
Resounds the goodness of the Lord.

2Yet why, dear Lord, this tender care?
Why doth thy hand so kindly spare
A useless cumberer of the ground,
On which so little fruit is found?

3Still let the barren fig-tree stand,
Uphold and watered by thy hand;
Its fruit and verdure yet shall be
A grateful tribute, Lord, to thee.