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 honor of his name,
How a poor suff'rer cried,
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 O 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 O love the Lord, ye saints of his;
His eye regards the just!
How richly bless'd 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: | Common Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Scripture: | |
Notes: | First part |