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With streams of sacred bliss,
With groves of living joys,
He still supplies. 89
They all exulting stand,
Through all their land :
And swell the growing fame ;
The wondrous Name !
The great archangels sing,
“ Almighty King
And evermore shall be ;
We worship Thee !”
The ransomed nations bow ,
For ever new :
They kindle to a flame!
The slaughtered Lamb! 4 The whole triumphant host
Give thanks to God on high ;
They ever cry:
(I join the heavenly lays,)
And endless praise !
His grace to thee proclaim :
To bless His holy name.
His mercies bear in mind ;
The Lord to thee is kind.
He will with patience wait;
And ready to abate.
Prolongs thy feeble breath;
And ransoms thee from death.
Upholds thee with His truth;
The vigour of thy youth.
Whose grace hath made thee whole ;
O bless the Lord, my soul !
L.M. TATE & BRADY. 1698.
M God's holy name for ever bless;
And still thy grateful thanks express.
And after sickness makes thee sound :
By Him with grace and mercy crowned.
3 The Lord abounds with tender love,
And unexampled acts of grace ;
His willing mercy flies apace.
Above this little spot of clay,
The small regards that we can pay. 5 As far as 'tis from east to west,
So far hath He our sins removed ;
Has such as fear Him always loved. 6 The Lord, the universal King,
In heaven hath fixed His lofty throne;
In whose great strength His praise is shown. 7 Let every creature jointly bless
The mighty Lord !--and thou, my heart,
And in this concert bear thy part.
L.M. 6 lines, triplets. Watts. 1719.
Praise shall employ my nobler powers ;
Or immortality endures.
And earth, and seas, with all their train;
And none shall find His promise vain.
3 The Lord pours eye-sight on the blind;
He sends the labouring conscience peace;
And grants the prisoner sweet release. . 4 I'll praise Him while He lends me breath; And when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers;
To make this duty our delight. 2 He formed the stars, those heavenly flames ;
He counts their numbers, calls their names;
A deep where all our thoughts are drowned.
Nor lets the drops descend in vain. 4 He makes the grass the hills adorn,
And clothes the smiling fields with corn :
And the young ravens when they cry. 5 What is the creature's skill or force ?
The sprightly man, or warlike horse ?
All are too mean delights for Him. 6 But saints are lovely in His sight,
He views His children with delight;
4.6s & 2-8s.
I His throne is built on high ;
Are light and majesty;
Keep the wide world in awe :
To guard His holy law;
Amazing wisdom shines;
And breaks their dark designs ;
Of glory condescend?
My Father and my Friend ?
C. WESLEY. 1854.
1 Meet it is for you to praise
Made you vessels of His grace,
All your sacred skill exert,
Praise Him with a thankful heart.