Text Based On Psalms Chapter 150
Let every thing that hath breath praise
the LORD. Praise ye the LORD.

Praise Ye The Lord

Praise ye the Lord, my heart shall join
In work so pleasant, so divine;
Now, while the flesh is mine abode,
And when my soul ascends to God.

Praise shall employ my noblest powers,
While immortality endures;
My days of praise shall ne'er be past,
While life, and thought, and being last.

Why should I make a man my trust?
Princes must die and turn to dust;
Their breath departs, their pomp, and power,
And thoughts, all vanish in an hour.

Happy the man whose hopes rely
On Israel's God; He made the sky,
And earth, and seas, with all their train,
And none shall find His promise vain.

His truth forever stands secure;
He saves the oppressed, He feeds the poor;
He sends the labouring conscience peace,
And grants the prisoner sweet release.

The Lord hath eyes to give the blind;
The Lord supports the sinking mind;
He helps the stranger in distress,
The widow and the fatherless.

He loves his saints, He knows them well,
But turns the wicked down to hell:
Thy God, O Zion! ever reigns;
Praise Him in everlasting strains.