My song shall bless the Lord of all,
My praise shall climb to His abode;
Thee, Sav­ior, by that name I call,
The great Su­preme, the migh­ty God.

Without be­gin­ning, or de­cline,
Object of faith, and not of sense;
Eternal ag­es saw Him shine,
He shines eter­nal ages hence.

As much, when in the man­ger laid,
Almighty Ru­ler of the sky;
As when the six days’ works He made,
Filled all the morn­ing-stars with joy.

Of all the crowns Je­ho­vah bears,
Salvation is His dear­est claim;
That gra­cious sound well-pleased He hears,
And owns Em­ma­nu­el for His name.

A cheer­ful con­fi­dence I feel,
My well-placed hopes with joy I see;
My bosom glows with heav’n­ly zeal
To wor­ship Him who died for me.

As man, He pi­ties my com­plaint,
His pow­er and truth are all di­vine;
He will not fail, He can­not faint,
Salvation’s sure, and must be mine.