Let Every Tongue Thy Goodness Speak

Let ev­ery tongue Thy good­ness speak

Thou sov­er­eign Lord of all;

Thy strength­en­ing hands up­hold the weak

And raise the poor that fall.

When sor­row bows the spir­it down

Or vir­tue lies dis­tressed

Beneath some proud op­press­or’s frown

Thou giv’st the mourn­ers rest.

The Lord supp­orts our tot­ter­ing days

And guides our gid­dy youth;

Holy and just are all His ways

And all His words are truth.

He knows the pains His serv­ants feel

He hears His child­ren cry

And their best wish­es to ful­fill

His grace is ev­er nigh.

His mer­cy nev­er shall re­move

From men of heart sin­cere;

He saves the souls whose hum­ble love

Is joined with ho­ly fear.

His stub­born foes His sword shall slay

And pierce their hearts with pain;

But none that serve the Lord shall say

They sought His aid in vain.

My lips shall dwell up­on His praise

And spread His fame abroad;

Let all the sons of Ad­am rise

The hon­ors of their God.