I’ll praise my Maker

I’ll Praise my Maker

I’ll praise my Maker while I’ve breath,
And when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers;
My days of praise shall ne’er be past,
While life and thought and being last,
Or immortality endures.

Happy the man whose hopes rely
On Israel’s God; He made the sky
And earth and seas, with all their train;
His truth for ever stands secure;
He saves the oppressed, He feeds the poor,
And none shall find His promise vain.

The Lord gives eyesight to the blind;
The Lord supports the fainting mind;
He sends the lab’ring conscience peace;
He helps the stranger in distress,
The widow and the fatherless,
And grants the pris’ner sweet release.

I’ll praise Him while He lends me breath;
And when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler powers;
My days of praise shall ne’er be past,
While life and thought and being last,
Or immortality endures.

Isaac Watts