I'll bless the Lord from day to day;

How good are all his ways!

Ye humble souls that use to pray,

Come, help my lips to praise.

Sing to the honor of his name,

How a poor suff'rer cried,

Nor was his hope exposed to shame,

Nor was his suit denied.

When threat'ning sorrows round me stood,

And endless fears arose,

Like the loud billows of a flood,

Redoubling all my woes;

I told the Lord my sore distress,

With heavy groans and tears;

He gave my sharpest torments ease,

And silenced all my fears.

[O sinners, come and taste his love,

Come, learn his pleasant ways;

And let your own experience prove

The sweetness of his grace.

He bids his angels pitch their tents

Round where his children dwell;

What ills their heav'nly care prevents

No earthly tongue can tell.]

[O love the Lord, ye saints of his;

His eye regards the just:

How richly blest their portion is

Who make the Lord their trust!

Young lions, pinched with hunger, roar

And famish in the wood;

But God supplies his holy poor

With every needful good.]