1 Awake, ye saints; to praise your King,
Your sweetest passions raise;
Your pious pleasures, while you sing,
Increasing with the praise.
2 Great is the Lord, and works unknown
Are his divine employ:
But still his saints are near his throne,
His treasure and his joy.
3 O Zion, trust the living God,
Serve him with faith and fear;
He makes thy courts his blest abode,
And claims thine honours here.
|First Line:||Awake, ye saints, to praise your King|