1 Now let my soul to Jesus raise
A song of grateful, humble praise;
To him, with joy, will I look up,
For he's the glory of my hope.

2 In all my trials, wants and fears,
He kindly for me still appears;
He is my never failing prop,
And all the glory of my hope.

3 What tho' he's pleased still to lay
Afflictions on me day by day,—
I'll drink the sweet, tho' bitter cup,
Since he's the glory of my hope.

4 Tho' weak and helpless still I am,
My strength and refuge is the Lamb;
He holds me still, nor shall I drop,
Since he's the glory of my hope.

5 His name I'll bless for all that's past,
He'll bring me safe to Heav'n at last;
There shall I sing, and never stop,
To him the glory of my hope.

6 Join ye, dear saints, who know 'tis true,
That you're in Christ, and Christ is you;
Here give your sacred passions scope,
And Jesus sing, your glorious hope.