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"SING PRAISES."(Psalm xlvii. 6.)
Sing praises ye redeemed ones! 'tis your God who bids you sing!
Has He not given you life and light and every pleasant thing?
Has He not promised you ere long a home beyond the sky?
And can you then forbear to sing, His name to glorify?
Has He not given you life and light and every pleasant thing?
Has He not promised you ere long a home beyond the sky?
And can you then forbear to sing, His name to glorify?
What though your sun be sometimes hid as in a gloomy shroud,
Ye know it still is shining on behind the darksome cloud;
And, though awhile all sad and drear, your present prospect seems,
Yet soon again ye shall rejoice in its refreshing beams.
Ye know it still is shining on behind the darksome cloud;
And, though awhile all sad and drear, your present prospect seems,
Yet soon again ye shall rejoice in its refreshing beams.
Sing praises! oh, sing praises! not in an undertone,
So that thy words of grateful joy be heard by you alone;
Sing with a loud and gladsome voice! perchance your cheerful strain,
May reach some mourning brother's ear, and make him sing again.
So that thy words of grateful joy be heard by you alone;
Sing with a loud and gladsome voice! perchance your cheerful strain,
May reach some mourning brother's ear, and make him sing again.
Perchance it may be heard by one who scorns the God of grace,
Who is the subject of your song, whose love you love to trace;
And he may think that if that God has given such joy to you,
It may be well for him to seek His tender mercy, too.
Who is the subject of your song, whose love you love to trace;
And he may think that if that God has given such joy to you,
It may be well for him to seek His tender mercy, too.
Sing praises! for there is no work within this tearful land,
And none in yonder heavenly fane so pleasant or so grand;
Earth's most melodious music, its most thrilling tales of joy,
All pale before the lofty theme that should thy powers employ.
And none in yonder heavenly fane so pleasant or so grand;
Earth's most melodious music, its most thrilling tales of joy,
All pale before the lofty theme that should thy powers employ.
