Lord, I will bless Thee all my days,
Thy praise shall dwell upon my tongue;
My soul shall glo­ry in Thy grace,
While saints re­joice to hear the song.

Come, mag­ni­fy the Lord with me,
Come, let us all ex­alt His name;
I sought th’eter­nal God, and He
Has not ex­posed my hope to shame.

I told Him all my sec­ret grief,
My secret groan­ing reached His ears;
He gave my in­ward pains re­lief,
And calmed the tu­mult of my fears.

To Him the poor lift up their eyes,
Their faces feel the heav’n­ly shine;
A beam of mer­cy from the skies
Fills them with light and joy di­vine.

His ho­ly an­gels pitch their tents
Around the men that serve the Lord;
O fear and love Him, all His saints,
Taste of His grace, and trust His Word.

The wild young li­ons, pinched with pain
And hun­ger roar through all the wood;
But none shall seek the Lord in vain,
Nor want sup­plies of real good.