1 I’ll praise my Maker with my breath,
and when my voice is lost in death,
praise shall employ my noblest pow'rs;
my days of praise shall ne'er be past,
while life, and thought, and being last,
or immortality endures.
2 Why should I make a man my trust?
Princes must die and turn to dust;
vain is the help of flesh and blood:
their breath departs, their pomp and pow'r,
and thoughts all vanish in an hour,
nor can they make their promise good.
3 Happy the man whose hopes rely
on Israel's God; He made the sky,
and earth and seas, with all their train;
His truth for ever stands secure;
He saves th'oppressed, He feeds the poor,
and none shall find His promise vain.
4 The LORD hath eyes to give the blind;
the LORD supports the sinking mind;
He sends the lab'ring conscience peace,
He helps the stranger in distress,
the widow and the fatherless,
and grants the pris'ner glad release.
5 He loves His saints, He knows them well,
but turns the wicked down to hell;
thy God, O Zion, ever reigns;
let every tongue, let every age,
in this exalted work engage;
praise Him in everlasting strains.
6 I’ll praise Him while He lends me breath;
and when my voice is lost in death,
praise shall employ my noblest pow'rs;
my days of praise shall ne'er be past,
while life and thought and being last,
or immortality endures.
My Starred Hymns
My FlexScores
My Hymnals
My Purchased Files
