My soul, repeat His praise
1
My soul, repeat His praise,Whose mercies are so great;Whose anger is so slow to rise,So ready to abate.
2
High as the heavens are raisedAbove the ground we tread,So far the riches of his graceOur highest thoughts exceed.
3
The pity of the Lord,To those that fear his name,Is such as tender parents feel;He knows our feeble frame.
4
His power subdues our sins;And his forgiving love,Far as the east is from the west,Doth all our guilt remove.