I'll praise My Maker While I've Breath

9 I'll praise My Maker While I've Breath

1 I’ll praise my Maker with my breath,
   and when my voice is lost in death,
   praise shall employ my noblest pow'rs;
   my days of praise shall ne'er be past,
   while life, and thought, and being last,
   or immortality endures.

2 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.

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 noblest pow'rs;
   my days of praise shall ne'er be past,
   while life and thought and being last,
   or immortality endures.
                         Isaac Watts
                         Alt. by John Wesley
                         The Methodist Hymnal 1964 edition

<idle musing>
Again, more verses are available:

2 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 pow'r,
   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.