Thy praise, O Lord, shall tune the lyre,
Thy love our joyful songs inspire;
To thee our cordial thanks be paid,
Our sure defense, our constant aid.
Why then cast down, and why distressed?
And whence the grief that fills our breast?
In God we'll hope, to God we'll raise
Our songs of gratitude and praise.
|First Line:||Thy praise, O Lord, shall tune the lyre|
|Title:||Thy praise, O Lord, shall tune the lyre|