Bless, O My Soul! the Living God

Bless

O my soul

the liv­ing God.

Call home thy thoughts that rove abroad

Let all the pow­ers with­in me join

In work and wor­ship so di­vine.

Bless

O my soul

the God of grace;

His fa­vors claim thy high­est praise:

Why should the won­ders He hath wrought

Be lost in si­lence and for­got?

’Tis He

my soul

that sent His Son

To die for crimes which thou hast done;

He owns the ran­som and for­gives

The hour­ly fol­lies of our lives.

The vic­es of the mind He heals

And cures the pains that na­ture feels;

Redeems the soul from hell

and saves

Our wast­ing life from threat­en­ing graves.

Our youth de­cayed

His pow­er re­pairs;

His mer­cy crowns our grow­ing years:

He sa­tis­fies our mouth with good

And fills our hopes with heav’n­ly food.

He sees th’op­press­or and th’op­pressed

And oft­en gives the suf­fer­ers rest;

But will His jus­tice more dis­play

In the last great re­ward­ing day.

His pow­er He showed by Mos­es’ hands

And gave to Is­ra­el His com­mands;

But sent His truth and mer­cy down

To all the na­tions by His Son.

Let the whole earth His pow­er con­fess.

Let the whole earth ad­ore His grace;

The Gen­tile with the Jew shall join

In work and wor­ship so di­vine.