Author: Henry F Lyte
Praise, my soul, the King of heaven,
To his feet your tribute bring;
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who like me his praise should sing?
Alleluia! Alleluia! Praise the everlasting King.
Praise him for his grace and favor
To our fathers in distress;
Praise him, still the same forever,
Slow to chide and swift to bless.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Glorious in his faithfulness.
Fatherlike, he tends and spares us;
Well our feeble frame he knows.
In his hands he gently bears us,
Rescues us from all our foes.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Widely as his mercy flows.
Frail as summer’s flower we flourish,
Blows the wind and it is gone;
But while mortals rise and perish,
God endures unchanging on.
Alleluia! Alleluia! Praise the High Eternal One!
