2 min.


When I with pleasing wonder stand
and all my frame survey,
Lord, ‘tis thy work, I own thy hand.
Thus built my humble clay.
Our life contains a thousand springs
and dies if one be gone.
Strange that a harp of thousand strings
should keep in tune so long.

After completing your purchase, you will be emailed a link to download the PDFs, allowing you to print off the score right away.

Ready to checkout? Click here to complete your order.


Browse the score