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H. M.


Praise Ye the Lord.

All, from the sun’s uprise

Unto his setting rays,

Resound in jubilees

The great Creator’s praise!

Him serve alone;

In triumph bring

Your gifts, and sing

Before His throne!

Man drew from man his birth;

But God his noble frame,

(Built of the ruddy earth,)

Filled with celestial flame.

His sons we are,

By Him are led,

Preserved and fed

With tender care.

Then to His portals press

In your divine resorts;

With thanks His power profess,

And praise Him in His courts.

How good! how pure!

His mercies last;

His promise past

Is ever sure.

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