My heart is fixed, O God,
A grate­ful song I raise;
Awake, O harp, in joy­ful strains;
Awake, my soul, to praise.

Among the na­tions, Lord,
To Thee my song shall rise;
Thy truth is great above the heav’ns,
Thy mer­cies reach the skies.

Above the heav’ns, O God,
And ov­er all the earth,
Let men ex­alt Thy glo­ri­ous name
And tell Thy match­less worth.

Stretch forth Thy migh­ty hand
In answer to our pray­er,
And let Thine own be­lov­èd ones
Thy great sal­va­tion share.

The ho­ly God has said,
All lands shall own My sway;
My peo­ple shall My glo­ry share,
The hea­then shall obey.

O who will lead our hosts
To tri­umph o’er the foe,
If Thou shalt cast us off, O God,
Nor with our ar­mies go?

The help of man is vain,
Be Thou our help­er, Lord;
Through Thee we shall do val­iant­ly
If Thou Thine aid af­ford.