1 I'll praise my Maker, whilst I've breath;
And, when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler pow'rs.
My days of praise shall ne'er be past
Whilst life and thought and being last,
or immortality endures.
2 Happy the man, whose hopes rely
on Israel's God, who made the sky
and earth and seas with all their train.
His truth for ever stands secure,
He saves th' oppress'd, he feeds the poor;
And none shall find his promise vain.
3 The Lord pours eye-sight on the blind;
the Lord supports the fainting mind
and sends the lab'ring conscience peace;
He helps the stranger in distress,
the widowed and the fatherless,
and grants the pris'ner 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 pow'rs.
My days of praise shall ne'er be past
Whilst life and thought and being last,
or immortality endures.
Isaac Watts
Alt. by John Wesley
The Methodist Hymnal 1939 edition
<idle musing>
I always find it ironic that John Wesley put in the foreword to his hymnals that no one was to tamper with the words of any song he or Charles had written—yet he was only too ready to modify the work of others!
This hymn has a couple of other verses. I'm not sure how much is original to Watts and how much is Wesley's alterations. You can research to your heart's delight by going here.
2 Why should I make a man my trust?</idle musing>
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.5 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.
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