Praise the Sav­ior, all ye na­tions,
Praise Him, all ye hosts above;
Shout, with joy­ful ac­cla­ma­tion,
His di­vine, vic­to­ri­ous love;
Be His king­dom now pro­mot­ed,
Let the earth her mon­arch know;
Be my all to Him de­vot­ed,
To my Lord my all I owe.

See how beau­te­ous on the mount­ains
Are their feet, whose grand de­sign
Is to guide us to the fount­ains
That o’er­flow with bliss di­vine,
Who pro­claim the joy­ful tid­ings
Of sal­va­tion all around,
Disregard the world’s de­rid­ings,
And in works of love abound.

With my sub­stance will I hon­or
My Re­deem­er and my Lord;
Were ten thou­sand worlds my man­or,
All were no­thing to His Word:
While the her­alds of sal­va­tion
His abound­ing grace pro­claim,
Let His friends, of ev­ery sta­tion,
Gladly join to spread His fame.