I Will Praise My Maker While I Have Breath

I’ll praise my Maker while I’ve breath,
and when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers;
my days of praise shall ne’er be past,
My days of praise shall ne’er be past,
while life, and thought, and being last,
or immortality endures
Why should I make a man my trust?
Princes must die and turn to dust
vain is the help of flesh and blood:
their breath departs, their pomp, and power
and thoughts, all vanish in an hour,
nor can they make their promise good.
Happy the man whose hopes rely
on Israel’s God: he made the sky
and earth, and seas, with all their train;
his truth for ever stands secure,
he saves th’oppressed, he feeds the poor,
and none shall find his promise vain.
The Lord has eyes to give the blind;
the Lord supports the sinking mind
he sends the laboring conscience peace;
he helps the stranger in distress
the widow, and the fatherless,
and grants the prisoner sweet release
He loves his saints, he knows them well,
but turns the wicked down to hell
thy God, O Zion! ever reigns:
Let every tongue, let every age
in this exalted work engage;
praise him in everlasting strains
I’ll praise him while he lends me breath,
and when my voice is lost in death,
praise shall employ my nobler powers;
my days of praise shall ne’er be past
while life, and thought, and being last,
or immortality endures.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s