CXXXVIII | A Pocket Hymn Book#CXXXIX | CXL |
1 Let ev'ry tongue thy goodness speak,
Thou sov'reign Lord of all;
Thy strength'ning hands uphold the weak,
And raise the poor that fall.
2 When sorrows bow the spirits down,
Our virtues lies distrest
Beneath the proud oppressor's frown,
Thou giv'st the mourner rest.
3 Thou know'st the pains thy servants feel;
Thou hear'st thy children's cry,
And their best wishes to fulfil,
Thy grace is ever nigh.
4 Thy mercy never shall remove
From men of heart sincere;
Thou sav'st the souls whose humble love
Is join'd with holy fear.
5 My lips shall dwell upon thy praise,
And spread thy fame abroad!
Let all the sons of Adam raise
The honours of their God.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Let ev'ry tongue thy goodness speak |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1791 |
Topic: | Rejoicing |