Praise ye the Lord, for He is good;
Give thanks and bless His name;
His lov­ing­kind­ness chang­es not,
From age to age the same.

What tongue can tell His migh­ty deeds,
His won­drous works and ways?
O who can show His glo­ry forth,
Or ut­ter all His praise?

The Lord will bless and pros­per those,
Yea, blest in­deed are they
Whose ways are just, who con­stant­ly
His right­eous law ob­ey.

O Lord, re­mem­ber me in grace,
Let me sal­va­tion see;
The grace Thou show­est to Thy saints,
That grace re­veal to me.

Let me be­hold Thy peo­ple’s good
And in their joy re­joice;
With Thy tri­um­phant he­ri­tage
Let me lift up my voice.

In ev­il we have gone as­tray,
And sin­ful is our race;
Rebelliously our fat­hers walked,
Forgetful of Thy grace.

Though they re­belled, yet for their help
In sav­ing strength He came
To make His power al­migh­ty known
And glo­ri­fy His name.

He brought them safe­ly through the sea
And ov­er­whelmed their foes;
Their faith was stirred, and for the time
Their songs of praise arose.

Forgetful soon, they tempt­ed God
Nor for His coun­sel cared;
He sent them lean­ness in their souls,
While they earth’s boun­ties shared.

With en­vy they re­gard­ed those
Whom God to them had sent;
The op­en­ing earth, the kind­ling flame,
Brought aw­ful pun­ish­ment.

A gold­en im­age they adored,
And wor­shipped at its shrine;
Thus they des­pised the liv­ing God,
And scorned His love di­vine.

Their God and Sav­ior they for­got,
Their help­er and their stay,
But Mos­es pled the pro­mised grace
And turned God’s wrath away.

Yea, they des­pised the plea­sant land,
The pro­mised land of God,
And tempt­ed Him to make them fall
And scat­ter them abroad.

They sac­ri­ficed to hea­then gods,
And God their sin re­paid;
Then ho­ly wrath avenged the wrong,
And so the plague was stayed.

The Lord ap­proved the right­eous act
Of him who sin ab­horred,
And hon­ored him for­ev­er­more
With just and great re­ward.

By wick­ed strife they an­gered God,
His wrath they did pro­voke;
And stirred by their re­bel­li­ous cries,
Their lead­er rash­ly spoke.

Ensnared, they served the hea­then gods,
And by them were be­guiled;
The blood of child­ren sac­ri­ficed
The ve­ry land de­filed.

Against His own in­he­ri­tance
Jehovah’s wrath arose,
His chos­en people He con­demned
To serve their hea­then foes.

Though from their harsh op­press­ors’ hand
Ofttimes He set them free,
Rebellious still, they were brought low
In their ini­qui­ty.

When un­to God they cried, He heard
And turned again His face,
In bound­less love re­mem­bering
The co­ve­nant of His grace.

He ev­en touched their cap­tors’ hearts,
And made their ve­ry foes
Compassionate and pi­ti­ful
To feel His peo­ple’s woes.

Save us, O Lord, our gra­cious God,
From ali­en lands re­claim,
That we may tri­umph in Thy praise
And bless Thy ho­ly name.

Blest be the Lord our co­ve­nant God,
All praise to Him ac­cord;
Let all the peo­ple say, Amen.
Praise ye, praise ye the Lord.