I’LL PRAISE MY MAKER WHILE I’VE BREATH.

I’ll praise my Maker while 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,
While life, and thought, and being last,
Or immortality endures.

Happy the man whose hopes rely
On Israel’s God! He made the sky,
And earth, and sea, with all their train:
His truth for ever stands secure;
He saves the oppressed, He feeds the poor,
And none shall find His promise vain.

The Lord gives eyesight to the blind;
The Lord supports the fainting mind;
He sends the laboring conscience peace;
He helps the stranger in distress,
The widow and the fatherless
And grants the prisoner sweet release.

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…