1 I'll celebrate thy praises, Lord,
Who didst thy pow'r employ
To raise my drooping head from death,
And fill my soul with joy.

2 In my distress I cry'd to thee,
Who kindly didst relieve,
And from the grave's expecting jaws
My hopeless life retrieve.

3 Thus to his courts, ye saints of his,
With songs of praise repair;
With me commemorate his truth,
And providential care.

4 His wrath has but a moment's reign,
His favour no decay;
Your night of grief is recompens'd
With joy's returning day.

5 Exalted thus, I'll gladly sing
Thy praise in grateful verse;
And, as thy favours endless are,
Thy endless praise rehearse.