I Will Extol Thee, Lord on High

I will ex­tol Thee

Lord on high

At Thy com­mand dis­eas­es fly:

Who but a God can speak and save

From the dark bor­ders of the grave?

Sing to the Lord

ye saints of His

And tell how large His good­ness is;

Let all your pow­ers re­joice and bless

While you re­cord His ho­li­ness.

His an­ger but a mo­ment stays;

His love is life and length of days;

Though grief and tears the night em­ploy

The morn­ing star re­stores the joy.