The Otterbein Hymnal | Page 3

griefs would tear my throbbing breast, Thy tuneful praises, raised on high, Shall check the murmur and the sigh.
3 When death o'er nature shall prevail, And all its powers of language fail, Joy thro' my swimming eyes shall break, And mean the thanks I cannot speak.
4 Soon shall I learn th' exalted strains, Which echo o'er the heavenly plains, And emulate, with joy unknown, The growing seraphs round thy throne.
Philip Doddridge, 1740.
10 Rockingham. L.M.
_Psalm 106._ (15)
Oh, render thanks to God above, The fountain of eternal love; Whose mercy firm, through ages past, Hath stood, and shall forever last.
2 Who can his mighty deeds express, Not only vast--but numberless? What mortal eloquence can raise His tribute of immortal praise?
3 Extend to me that favor, Lord, Thou to thy chosen dost afford; When thou return'st to set them free. Let thy salvation visit me.
Tate-Brady.
11 Rockingham. L.M.
_God Revealed in Christ._ (600)
Now to the Lord, a noble song! Awake, my soul! awake, my tongue, Hosanna to th' eternal name, And all his boundless love proclaim.
2 See where it shines in Jesus' face,-- The brightest image of his grace! God, in the person of his Son, Has all his mightiest works outdone.
3 Grace!--'tis a sweet, a charming theme; My thoughts rejoice at Jesus' name: Ye angels! dwell upon the sound; Ye heavens! reflect it to the ground.
4 Oh! may I live to reach the place, Where he unveils his lovely face, Where all his beauties you behold, And sing his name to harps of gold.
Isaac Watts, 1707.
12 Rockingham. L.M.
_Unceasing Praise._ (13)
My God! my King! thy various praise Shall fill the remnant of my days; Thy grace employ my humble tongue, Till death and glory raise the song.
2 The wings of every hour shall bear Some thankful tribute to thine ear; And every setting sun shall see New works of duty, done for thee.
3 But who can speak thy wondrous deeds? Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds; Vast and unsearchable thy ways-- Vast and immortal be thy praise.
Isaac Watts, 1719.
13 Otterbein. L.M.
_Psalm 95._ (4)
Oh, come, loud anthems let us sing, Loud thanks to our Almighty King! For we our voices high should raise, When our salvation's Rock we praise.
2 Into his presence let us haste, To thank him for his favors past; To him address, in joyful songs, The praise that to his name belongs.
3 Oh, let us to his courts repair, And bow with adoration there; Down on our knees, devoutly, all Before the Lord, our Maker, fall.
Nahum Tate, 1696.
14 Park Street. L.M.
_Joining in Praise._ (75)
Sweet is the work, my God! my King! To praise thy name, give thanks and sing; To show thy love by morning light, And talk of all thy truth at night.
2 Sweet is the day of sacred rest; No mortal care shall seize my breast; O may my heart in tune be found, Like David's harp of solemn sound.
3 My heart shall triumph in the Lord, And bless his works, and bless his word; Thy works of grace, how bright they shine! How deep thy counsels! how divine!
Isaac Watts.
15 Harvey's Chant. C. M.
_The Goodness of God in His Works._ (26)
Hail! great Creator, wise and good! To thee our songs we raise; Nature, through all her various scenes, Invites us to thy praise.
2 At morning, noon, and evening mild, Fresh wonders strike our view; And, while we gaze, our hearts exult With transports ever new.
3 Thy glory beams in every star, Which gilds the gloom of night; And decks the smiling face of morn With rays of cheerful light.
4 And while, in all thy wondrous ways, Thy varied love we see; Oh, may our hearts, great God, be led Through all thy works to thee.
Anon. 1795.
16 Harvey's Chant. C.M.
_Praise at all Times._ (27)
My soul shall praise thee, O my God Through all my mortal days, And in eternity prolong Thy vast, thy boundless praise.
2 In every smiling, happy hour, Be this my sweet employ; Thy praise refines my earthly bliss, And heightens all my joy.
3 When anxious grief and gloomy care Afflict my throbbing breast, My tongue shall learn to speak thy praise, And lull each pain to rest.
4 Nor shall my tongue alone proclaim The honors of my God; My life, with all its active powers, Shall spread thy praise abroad.
5 And when these lips shall cease to move, When death shall close these eyes, My soul shall then to nobler heights Of joy and transport rise.
O. Heigenbotham.
17 Harvey's Chant. C.M.
_Psalm 66._ (24)
Lift up to God the voice of praise, Whose breath our souls inspired; Loud, and more loud the anthem raise, With grateful ardor fired.
2 Lift up to God the voice of praise, Whose goodness, passing thought, Loads every minute as it flies, With benefits unsought.
3 Lift up to God the voice of praise From whom salvation flows, Who