Hymnal: The Christian Psalmist
Date: 1848
Compiler: S W Leonard and A D Fillmore
Publisher/Printer: S W Leonard
First Line: My soul repeat his praise
Topic: <no topic given>
Writer: <no first name given> <no last name given>
Composer:
Meter: SM
Tune:
Hymn Number: 182
Page Number: 201, click to see hymnal pages
LyicsMy soul repeat his praise,
Whose mercies are so great;
Whose anger is so slow to rise,
So ready to abate.
God will not always chide;
And when his strokes are felt,
His strokes are fewer than our crimes,
And lighter than our guilt.
High as the heavens are raised
Above the ground we tread,
So far the riches of his grace
Our highest thoughts exceed.
His power subdues our sin;
And his forgiving love,
Far as the east is from the west,
Doth all our guilt remove.
Our days are like the grass,
Or like the morning flower;
If one sharp blast sweeps o'er the field,
It withers in an hour.
But thy compassions, Lord,
To endless years endure;
And children's children ever find
Thy words of promise sure,