Lord, What a Thoughtless Wretch Was I by Isaac Watts, 1719 HUNTINGTON—Justin Morgan Lord, What a Thoughtless Wretch Was I 1 Lord, what a thoughtless wretch was I, To mourn, and murmur, and repine, To see the wicked placed on high, In pride and robes of honor shine. But, oh, their end, their dreadful end, Thy sanctuary taught me so, On slipp’ry rocks I see them stand, And fiery billows roll below.