Laudes Domini ‎#867

867. Psalm 103

1 My soul, repeat his praise,
Whose mercies are so great;
Whose anger is so slow to rise,
So ready to abate.

2 God will not always chide;
And when his strokes are felt,
His strokes are fewer than our crimes,
And lighter than our guilt.

3 The pity of the Lord
To those that fear his name,
Is such as tender parents feel:
He knows our feeble frame.

4 Our days are as the grass,
Or like the morning flower;
If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field,
It withers in an hour.

5 But thy compassions, Lord,
To endless years endure;
And children's children ever find
Thy words of promise sure.

Text Information

• First Line: My soul, repeat his praise
• Title: Psalm 103
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1884
• Topic: Afflictions: See Christ; Christians: Afflictions; Christians: Disciplines; God: Compassion; God: Pity; Sickness
• Notes: Public Domain

Tune Information

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