A hymn for Saturday morning, by Isaac Watts:
I’ll praise my Maker while I’ve breath;
and when my voice is lost in death,
praise shall employ my nobler powers.
My days of praise shall ne’er be past,
while life, and thought, and being last,
or immortality endures.
Happy are they whose hopes rely
on Israel’s God, who made the sky
and earth and seas, with all their train;
whose truth for ever stands secure,
who saves the oppressed and feeds the poor,
for none shall find God’s promise vain.
The Lord pours eyesight on the blind;
the Lord supports the fainting mind
and sends the laboring conscience peace.
God helps the stranger in distress,
the widow and the fatherless,
and grants the prisoner sweet release.
I’ll praise my God who lends me breath;
and when my voice is lost in death,
praise shall employ my nobler powers.
My days of praise shall ne’er be past,
while life, and thought, and being last,
or immortality endures.