344 Psalm CXLVIII. Praise Him, angels in the height; Praise Him, all ye stars and light. Worlds His mighty voice obeyed; For their guidance He has made. 2 Praise the Lord, for He is glorious; Never shall His promise fail ; Sin and death shall not prevail. Hosts on high, His power proclaim ; Laud and magnify His Name. Amen. I 345. Psalm CL. 2 Praise the Lord, His mercies trace ; H. F. Lyte. 346. I O PRAISE the Lord; for He is love, The mighty Lord, and King of kings : From whom eternal mercy springs. 2 O praise Him on His glory-throne, The mighty Lord, and King of kings, From whom eternal mercy springs. 3 Who by His wisdom heaven arrayed, The mighty Lord, and King of kings, From whom eternal mercy springs. 4 Who feeds all tribes that live and move, The mighty Lord, and King of kings: Thank Him, whose heavenly Name is love, From whom eternal mercy springs. Amen. 347. I LORD, we thank Thee for the pleasure That our happy lifetime gives, Of a soul that ever lives; Yearning for its home above, And the depth of human love. 2 For the thrill, the leap, the gladness Of our pulses flowing free ; That may bring us nearer Thee: Thine unutterable love, Sent Thy dear Son from above. 3 Teach us so our days to number, That we may be early wise ; Never dull our heavenward eyes ; As to Thee and not to men, Is in heaven, and not till then. Amen. I 348. My rising soul surveys, In wonder, love, and praise. And all my wants redrest, And hung upon the breast. Thy tender care bestowed, From whence these comforts flowed. 4 When in the slippery paths of youth With heedless steps I ran, And led me up to man. 5 When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou With health renewed my face ; Revived my soul with grace. My daily thanks employ ; That tastes those gifts with joy. 7 Through all eternity to Thee A joyful song I'll raise : 7. Addison. 349. I How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds And drives away his fear. 2 It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast; 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary rest. 3 Dear Name! the rock on which I build, My shield and hiding-place, With boundless stores of grace. + Jesus, my Shepherd, Husband, Friend, My Prophet, Priest, and King, Accept the praise I bring. 5 Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought ; I'll praise Thee as I ought. 6 Till then, I would Thy love proclaim With every fleeting breath ; 7. Newton. |