I will sing my mak­er’s prais­es
And in Him most joy­ful be,
For in all things I see trac­es
Of His ten­der love to me.
Nothing else than love could move Him
With such sweet and ten­der care
Evermore to raise and bear all
Who try to serve and love Him.
All things else have but their day,
God’s great love ab­ides for aye.

Yea, so dear did He es­teem me
That His Son He loved so well
He hath giv­en to re­deem me
From the quench­less flames of hell.
O Thou spring of bound­less bless­ing,
How could e’er my fee­ble mind
Of Thy depth the bot­tom find
Though my ef­forts were un­ceas­ing?
All things else have but their day,
God’s great love ab­ides for aye.

All that for my soul is need­ful
He with lov­ing care pro­vides,
Nor of that is He un­heed­ful
Which my bo­dy needs be­sides.
When my strength can­not avail me,
When my pow­ers can do no more,
Doth my God His strength out­pour;
In my need He doth not fail me.
All things else have but their day,
God’s great love ab­ides for aye.

When I sleep, He still is near me,
O’er me rests His guard­ian eye;
And new gifts and bless­ings cheer me
When the morn­ing streaks the sky.
Were it not for God’s pro­tect­ion,
Had His coun­te­nance not been
Here my guide, I had not seen e’er
The end of my af­flict­ion.
All things else have but their day,
God’s great love ab­ides for aye.

As a fa­ther nev­er turn­eth
Wholly from a way­ward child,
For the pro­di­gal still yearn­eth,
Longing to be re­con­ciled,
So my ma­ny sins and er­rors
Find a ten­der, par­don­ing God,
Chastening frail­ty with His rod,
Not, in ven­geance, with His ter­rors.
All things else have but their day,
God’s great love ab­ides for aye.

Since, then, nei­ther change nor cold­ness,
In my Fa­ther’s love can be,
Lo! I lift my hands with bold­ness,
As Thy child I come to Thee.
Grant me grace, O God, I pray Thee,
That I may with all my might,
All my life­time, day and night,
Love and trust Thee and ob­ey Thee
And, when this brief life is o’er,
Praise and love Thee ev­er­more.