I too will mag­ni­fy the Lord,
And emu­late the an­gels’ lays,
His lov­ing-kind­ness­es re­cord
In sounds of ev­er­last­ing praise.

For all He hath on us be­stowed,
This on­ly tri­bute can I bring,
Extol the mer­cies of my God,
His mul­ti­tude of mer­cies sing.

How good to Is­ra­el’s chos­en race:
Who, who can all His good­ness tell!
So rich in un­ex­haust­ed grace,
His rich­es are un­search­able.

Surely, He said, mine own they are,
My people will not faith­less prove,
My child­ren will not slight my care,
Or dis­ap­point a Fa­ther’s love.

Sweetly He strove their hearts to gain,
He wooed them to em­brace His will,
They ne­ver asked His help in vain,
But found a pre­sent Sav­iour still.

Dear as the ap­ple of His eye
In all their griefs He kind­ly grieved;
The an­gel of His pre­sence nigh
From all the fa­vo­rite na­tion saved.

He res­cued when to ev­il sold,
He snatched them from im­pend­ing harms,
Carried them all the days of old,
Safe in His ev­er­last­ing arms.

He mag­ni­fied His sav­ing pow­er,
Called them His ut­most grace to prove,
With in­fi­nite com­pas­sion bore
The ob­jects of His ten­der­est love.

But Oh! They soon for­sook their God,
The faith­less and re­bel­lious race
In de­vi­ous paths of ev­il trod,
And grieved the Spir­it of His grace.

They vexed; and forced His wrath to rise,
His ven­geance fell so long de­layed:
Constrained the rebels to chas­tise,
He poured His judg­ments on their head.

His mer­cy then He called to mind,
He called to mind the an­cient days
When on­ly mer­ci­ful, and kind
He smiled on the pe­cu­li­ar race.

Where is He now—their God, their guide!
(He taught their hearts the pow­er­ful plea)
Where is He now, their hearts re­plied,
Who brought His peo­ple from the sea?

Who placed a shep­herd o’er the rest,
And gave him wis­dom from above,
And breathed in­to his peace­ful breast
The meek, mild Spir­it of His love.

Them by the hand of Mo­ses led,
His pow­er, and good­ness to pro­claim,
Beyond the bounds of time to spread
Jehovah’s ev­er­last­ing name.

The Lord of hosts in all ap­peared,
He smote the sea with Mo­ses’ rod,
His glo­ri­ous arm aloft He reared.
The part­ing sea con­fessed its God.

He brought them thro’ the won­drous way,
The deep was dry at His com­mand,
Secure they marched in firm ar­ray,
Nor stum­bled, till they reached the land.

Smooth as the ge­ner­ous nur­tured beast,
Into the ver­dant vale goes down,
To bring them to that pro­mised rest,
His Spir­it gent­ly led them on.

Thus didst Thou guide Thy chos­en race,
That ev­ery tongue might speak Thy fame,
And earth and Hea­ven con­spire to praise
The God of Is­ra­el’s glo­ri­ous name.