1 I'll bless the Lord from day to day;
How good are all his ways!
Ye humble souls that use to pray,
Come help my lips to praise.
2 Sing to the honour of his name,
How a poor suff'rer cry'd,
Nor was his hope expos'd to shame,
Nor was his suit deny'd.
3 When threat'ning sorrows round me stood,
And endless fears arose,
Like the loud billows of a flood,
Redoubling all my woes.
4 I told the Lord my sore distress,
With heavy groans and tears;
He gave my sharpest torments ease,
And silenc'd all my fears.
Pause.
[5 Oh sinners, come and taste his love,
Come, learn his pleasant ways,
And let your own experience prove,
The sweetness of his grace.
6 He bids his angels pitch their tents,
Round where his children dwell;
What ills their heav'nly care prevents,
No earthly tongue can tell.]
[7 Oh love the Lord, ye saints of his;
His eye regards the just,
How richly blest their portion is,
Who make the Lord their trust!
8 Young lions pinch'd with hunger roar,
And famish in the wood;
But God supplies his holy poor
With ev'ry needful good.]
Text Information | |
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First Line: | I'll bless the Lord from day to day |
Title: | Prayer and Praise for eminent Deliverance |
Meter: | Com. Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1793 |
Scripture: | |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. First Part |