Christian's Duty, exhibited in a series of hymns ‎#S17

S17. Bless, O my soul, the living God

1 Bless, O my soul, the living God;
Call home thy thoughts that rove abroad,
Let all the pow'rs within me join
In work and worship so divine.

2 Bless, O my soul, the God of grace;
His favours claim thy highest praise;
Why should ungrateful silence hide
The blessings which his hands provide?

3 'Tis he, my soul, that sent his Son
To die for crimes which thou hast done;
He owns the ransom, and forgives
The hourly follies of our lives.

4 The vices of the mind he heals,
And cures the pains that nature feels--
Redeems the soul from hell, and saves
Our wasting life from threat'ning graves.

5 Our youth decay'd his pow'r repairs;
His mercy crowns our growing years;
He fills our store with ev'ry good,
And feeds our souls with heav'nly food.

6 He sees th' oppressor and th' opprest,
And often gives the suff'rer rest;
But will his justice more display
In the last great rewarding day.

Text Information

• First Line: Bless, O my soul, the living God
• Meter: L.M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1825

Tune Information

(No tune information)