1 Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven,
To his feet thy tribute bring;
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who like thee his praise should sing?
Praise him!
Praise the everlasting King.
2 Praise him for his grace and favour
To our fathers in distress;
Praise him still the same as ever,
Slow to chide and swift to bless;
Praise him!
Glorious in his faithfulness.
3 Father-like he tends and spares us;
Weil our feeble frame he knows,
In his hands he gently bears us,
Rescues us from all our foes.
Praise him!
Widely as his mercy flows.
4 Angels in the heights adore him,
Ye behold him face to face;
Sun and moon bow down before him:
Dwellers all in time and space,
Praise him!
Praise with us the God of grace.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven |
Author: | Henry Francis Lyte (1793-1847) |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1986 |
Topic: | God the Father: Person and praise |