I wait­ed for the Lord my God,
Yea, pa­tient­ly drew near,
And He at length in­clined to me,
My plead­ing cry to hear.

He took me from de­struc­tion’s pit,
From out the mi­ry clay;
He set my feet up­on a rock,
And stead­fast made my way.

A new and joy­ful song of praise
My thank­ful heart He taught,
A song of glo­ry to our God
For all that He has wrought.

And ma­ny who be­hold how good
The Lord has been to me
Shall learn to fear, and in His name
Their trust shall hence­forth be.

O tru­ly bless­èd is the man
That on the Lord re­lies,
Respecting not the proud, nor such
As turn aside to lies.

O Lord my God, how ma­ni­fold
The works which Thou hast wrought,
Ofttimes Thou hast be­stowed on us
Thy care and gra­cious thought.

Thy works and thoughts most won­der­ful,
If I of them would speak,
Cannot be num­bered, and in vain
To set them forth I seek.