1 Sweet is the Work, my God, my King,
To praise thy Name, give Thanks and sing;
To shew thy Love by morning Light,
And talk of all thy Truth at Night.
2 Sweet is the Day of sacred Rest;
No mortal Cares shall seize my Breast;
O may my Heart in Tune be found
Like David's Harp of solemn Sound!
3 My Heart shall Triumph in my Lord,
And bless his Works, and bless his Word;
Thy Works of Grace, how bright they shine!
How deep thy Counsels! how Divine!
4 Fools never raise their Thoughts so high:
Like Brutes they live, like Brutes they die;
Like Grass they flourish, till thy Breath
Blast them in everlasting Death.
5 But I shall share a glorious part
When Grace hat well refin'd my Heart,
And fresh Supplies of Joy are shed
Like holy Oil to chear my Head.
6 Sin (my worst Enemy before)
Shall vex my Eyes and Ears no more;
My inward Foes shall all be slain,
Nor Satan break my Peace again.
7 Then shall I see, and hear, and know
All I desir'd or wish'd below;
And ev'ry Pow'r afind sweet Employ
In that Eternal World of Joy
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Sweet is the Work, my God, my King |
Title: | A Psalm for the Lord's Day |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Topic: | liturgical: Opening Hymns; Morning Hymns |