Give Thanks to God, Invoke His Name

Give thanks to God

in­voke His name

And tell the world His grace;

Sound thro’ the earth His deeds of fame

That all may seek His face.

His co­ve­nant

which He kept in mind

For nu­mer­ous ag­es past

To nu­mer­ous ages yet be­hind

In eq­ual force shall last.

He swore to Ab­ra­ham and his seed

And made the bless­ing sure;

Gentiles the an­cient pro­mise read

And find His truth en­dure.

Thy seed shall make all na­tions blest

Said the al­migh­ty voice

And Ca­naan’s land shall be their rest

The type of heav’n­ly joys.

How large the grant! How rich the grace

To give them Ca­naan’s land

When they were strang­ers in the place

A lit­tle fee­ble band!

Like pil­grims thro’ the coun­tries round

Securely they re­moved;

And haugh­ty kings that on them frowned

Severely He re­proved.

Touch Mine anoint­ed

and My arm

Shall soon re­venge the wrong:

The man that does My pro­phets harm

Shall know their God is strong.

Then let the world for­bear its rage

Nor put the church in fear;

Israel must live through ev­ery age

And be th’Al­migh­ty’s care.

When Pha­raoh dared to vex the saints

And thus pro­voked their God

Moses was sent at their com­plaints

Armed with his dread­ful rod.

He called for dark­ness; dar­kness came

Like an o’erw­helm­ing flood;

He turned each lake and ev­ery stream

To lakes and streams of blood.

He gave the sign

and noi­some flies

Thro’ the whole coun­try spread;

And frogs in croak­ing ar­mies rise

About the mon­arch’s bed.

Through fields

and towns

and pal­aces

The ten­fold ven­geance flew;

Locusts in swarms de­voured their trees

And hail their cat­tle slew.

Then by an ang­el’s mid­night stroke

The flow­er of Egypt died;

The strength of ev­ery house was broke

Their glo­ry and their pride.

Now let the world for­bear its rage

Nor put the church in fear;

Israel must live through ev­ery age

And be th’Al­migh­ty’s care.

Thus were the tribes from bond­age brought

And left the hat­ed ground;

Each some Egypt­ian spoils had got

And not one fe­eble found.

The Lord Him­self chose out their way

And marked their jour­neys right;

Gave them a lead­ing cloud by day

A fie­ry guide by night.

They thirst

and wa­ters from the rock

In rich abun­dance flow;

And fol­low­ing still the course they took

Ran all the des­ert through.

O won­drous stream! O bless­èd type

Of ev­er flow­ing grace!

So Christ

our Rock

main­tains our life

Through all this wil­der­ness.

Thus guard­ed by th’al­migh­ty hand

The chos­en tribes pos­sessed

Canaan

the rich

the pro­mised land

And there en­joyed their rest.

Then let the world for­bear its rage

The church re­nounce her fear;

Israel must live through ev­ery age

And be th’Al­migh­ty’s care.