Praise Ye the Lord, My Heart Shall Join

Praise ye the Lord

my heart shall join

In work so plea­sant

so di­vine;

Now

while the flesh is mine ab­ode

And when my soul as­cends to God.

Praise shall em­ploy my nob­lest pow­ers

While im­mor­tal­ity en­dures;

My days of praise shall ne’er be past

While life

and thought

and be­ing last.

Why should I make a man my trust?

Princes must die and turn to dust;

Their breath de­parts

their pomp

and pow­er

And thoughts

all van­ish in an hour.

Happy the man whose hopes re­ly

On Is­ra­el’s God; He made the sky

And earth

and seas

with all their train

And none shall find His pro­mise vain.

His truth for­ev­er stands se­cure;

He saves th’op­pressed

He feeds the poor;

He sends the la­bor­ing con­sci­ence peace

And grants the pri­son­er sweet re­lease.

The Lord hath eyes to give the blind;

The Lord sup­ports the sink­ing mind;

He helps the strang­er in dis­tress

The wi­dow and the fa­ther­less.

He loves his saints

He knows them well

But turns the wick­ed down to hell:

Thy God

O Zi­on! ev­er reigns;

Praise Him in ev­er­last­ing strains.