1 Lord, I will bless thee all my days,
Thy praise shall dwell upon my tongue:
My soul shall glory in thy grace,
While saints rejoice to hear the song.
2 Come, magnify the Lord with me;
Come, let us all exalt his name:
I sought th' eternal God, and he
Has not expos'd my hope to shame.
3 I told him all my secret grief,
My secret groaning reach'd his ears;
He gave my inward pains relief,
And calm'd the tumult of my fears.
4 To him the poor lift up their eyes,
With heav'nly joy their faces shine;
A beam of mercy from the skies
Fills them with light and joy divine.
5 His holy angels pitch their tents
Around the men that serve the Lord:
O fear and love him all ye saints,
Taste of his grace and trust his word!
6 The wild young lions, pinch'd with pain
And hunger, roar thro' all the wood;
But none shall seek the Lord in vain,
Nor want supplies of real good.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Lord I will bless thee all my days |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1790 |
Scripture: | |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. Part 1 |