’Tis Good to Sing Praises

’Tis good to sing prais­es of glad­ness

And shout hal­le­lu­jahs aloud;

It takes from the heart all its sad­ness

When sor­row our poor hearts has bowed;

Our Fa­ther the brok­en heart heal­eth

And binds up the wounds of the soul;

His good­ness He ev­er re­veal­eth

The strick­en He ev­er makes whole.

He makes the grass grow on the mount­ains

Our fields hold the fin­est of wheat;

He stores up the floods of the fount­ains

To spring forth the food that we eat.

Let’s praise Him in songs of thanks­giv­ing

These bless­ings are all from His hand;

He gives us a boun­ti­ful liv­ing

And bless­es the soil of our land.

He tell­eth the stars in their num­ber

He call­eth them all by their name;

The clouds He doth rend all asun­der

And sends to the earth the sweet rain.

And peace is pre­served to the na­tion

Averted war’s ter­ri­ble flame;

He bless­es us in ev­ery sta­tion

Thanksgiving sing all to His name.