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Abounding Compassion of God; or Mercy in the Midst of Judgment

Hymnal: The Psalms of David #185 (1740) Scripture: Psalm 103:8-18 First Line: My Soul, repeat his Praise Lyrics: 1 My Soul, repeat his Praise, Whose Mercies are so great; Whose Anger is so slow to rise, So ready to abate. 2 GOD will not always chide; And when his Strokes are felt, His Strokes are fewer than our Crimes, And lighter than our Guilt. 3 High as the Heav'ns are raised Above the Ground we tread, So far the Riches of his Grace Our highest Thoughts exceed. 4 His Pow'r subdues our sins, And his forgiving Love Far as the East is from the West Doth all our Guilt remove. 5 The Pity of the Lord, To those that fear his Name, Is such as tender Parents feel; He knows our feeble Frame. 6 He knows we are but Dust, Scatter'd with every Breath; His Anger, like a rising Wind, Can send us swift to Death. 7 Our Days are as the Grass, Or like the Morning Flow'r; If one sharp Blast sweep o'er the Field It withers in an Hour. 8 But thy Compassion, Lord, To endless Years endure; And Children's Children ever find Thy Words of Promise sure. Topics: Afflicted gentle; Angels praise the Lord; Compassion of God; God his universal dominion; God mercy and truth; Goodness of God; Mercies common and special; Mercies spiritual and temporal Languages: English

Abounding Compassion of God; or, Mercy in the midst of Judgement

Hymnal: Doctor Watts's Imitation of the Psalms of David, corrected and enlarged, to which is added a collection of hymns; the whole applied to the state of the Christian Church in general (2nd ed.) #193 (1786) Scripture: Psalm 103:8-18 First Line: My soul, repeat his praise Lyrics: 1 My soul, repeat his praise, Whose mercies are so great; Whose anger is so slow to rise, So ready to abate. 2 God will not always chide; And when his strokes are felt, His strokes are fewer than our crimes, And lighter than our guilt. 3 High as the heavens are rais'd Above the ground we tread, So far the riches of his grace Our highest thoughts exceed. 4 His power subdues our sins, And his forgiving love Far as the east is from the west, Doth all our guilt remove. 5 The pity of the Lord To those that fear his name, Is such as tender parents feel; He knows our feeble frame. 6 He knows we are but dust, Scatter'd with every breath: His anger like a rising wind Can send us swift to death. 7 Our days are as the grass, Or like the morning flower! If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, It withers in an hour. 8 But thy compassions, Lord, To endless years endure; And children's children ever find Thy words of promise sure. Topics: Afflictions gentle; Angels praise the Lord; Compassion of God; God goodness and mercy; God his universal dominion; God mercy and truth; Goodness of God; Mercies common and special; Mercies spiritual and temporal; Afflictions gentle; Angels praise the Lord; Compassion of God; God goodness and mercy; God his universal dominion; God mercy and truth; Goodness of God; Mercies common and special; Mercies spiritual and temporal Languages: English

Abounding Compassion of God; or, Mercy in the midst of Judgement

Hymnal: Doctor Watts's Imitation of the Psalms of David #193 (1787) Scripture: Psalm 103:8-18 First Line: My soul, repeat his praise Lyrics: 1 My soul, repeat his praise, Whose mercies are so great; Whose anger is so slow to rise, So ready to abate. 2 God will not always chide; And when his strokes are felt, His strokes are fewer than our crimes, And lighter than our guilt. 3 High as the heavens are rais'd Above the ground we tread, So far the riches of his grace Our highest thoughts exceed. 4 His power subdues our sins, And his forgiving love Far as the east is from the west, Doth all our guilt remove. 5 The pity of the Lord To those that fear his name, Is such as tender parents feel; He knows our feeble frame. 6 He knows we are but dust, Scatter'd with every breath: His anger like a rising wind Can send us swift to death. 7 Our days are as the grass, Or like the morning flower! If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, It withers in an hour. 8 But thy compassions, Lord, To endless years endure; And children's children ever find Thy words of promise sure. Topics: Afflictions gentle; Angels praise the Lord; Compassion of God; God goodness and mercy; God his universal dominion; God mercy and truth; Goodness of God; Mercies common and special; Mercies spiritual and temporal; Afflictions gentle; Angels praise the Lord; Compassion of God; God goodness and mercy; God his universal dominion; God mercy and truth; Goodness of God; Mercies common and special; Mercies spiritual and temporal Languages: English

Abounding compassion of God; or, Mercy in the midst of judgment

Hymnal: Psalms, carefully suited to the Christian worship in the United States of America #211 (1791) Scripture: Psalm 103:8-18 First Line: My soul repeat his praise Lyrics: 1 My soul, repeat his praise, Whose mercies are so great; Whose anger is so slow to rise, So ready to abate. 2 God will not always chide; And when his strokes are felt, His strokes are fewer than our crimes, And lighter than our guilt. 3 High as the heav'ns are rais'd Above the ground we tread, So far the riches of his grace Our highest thoughts exceed. 4 His power subdues our sins, And his forgiving love Far as the east is from the west; Doth all our guilt remove. 5 The pity of the Lord To those that fear his name, Is such as tender parents feel – He knows our feeble frame. 6 He knows we are but dust, Scatter'd with every breath: His anger like a rising wind Can send us swift to death. 7 Our days are as the grass, Or like the morning flower! If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, It withers in an hour. 8 But thy compassions, Lord, To endless years endure; And children's children ever find Thy words of promise sure. Languages: English

My soul repeat his praise

Author: Watts Hymnal: A. M. E. C. Hymnal #223 (1954) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Scripture: Psalm 103:8-12 Languages: English

My soul, repeat his praise

Hymnal: Dr. Watts's Imitation of the Psalms of David #223 (1790) Meter: 6.6.8.6 Scripture: Psalm 103:8-18 Lyrics: 1 My soul, repeat his praise, Whose mercies are so great; Whose anger is so slow to rise, So ready to abate. 2 God will not always chide; And when his strokes are felt, His strokes are fewer than our crimes, And lighter than our guilt. 3 High as the heav'ns are rais'd Above the ground we tread, So far the riches of his grace Our highest thoughts exceed. 4 His pow'r subdues our sins, And his forgiving love Far as the east is from the west Doth all our guilt remove. 5 The pity of the Lord To those that fear his name, Is such as tender parents feel; He knows our feeble frame. 6 He knows we are but dust, Scatter'd with ev'ry breath; His anger, like a rising wind, Can send us swift to death. 7 Our days are as the grass, Or like the morning flow'r; If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, It withers in an hour. 8 But thy compassions, Lord, To endless years endure; And children's children ever find Thy words of promise sure. Languages: English

My Soul, Repeat His Praise

Author: Isaac Watts Hymnal: The Hymnal and Order of Service #293 (1926) Meter: 6.6.8.6 Scripture: Psalm 103 Lyrics: 1 My soul, repeat His praise, Whose mercies are so great, Whose anger is so slow to rise, So ready to abate. 2 God will not always chide; And, when His wrath is felt, His strokes are few than our crimes, And lighter than our guilt. 3 High as the heavens are raised Above the ground we tread, So far the riches of His grace Our highest thoughts exceed. 4 His power subdues our sins; And His forgiving love, Far as the east is from the west, Doth all our guilt remove. 5 Our days are as the grass, Or like the morning flower; If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, It withers in an hour. 6 But Thy compassions, Lord, To endless years endure, And children's children ever find Thy words of promise sure. Amen. Topics: Worship Prayer and Praise; A Day of Thanksgiving or a Harvest Festival; Thanksgiving Languages: English Tune Title: BARNBY'S HYMNARY, TUNE 525

My soul, repeat his praise

Author: Watts Hymnal: The Voice of Praise #323 (1873) Meter: 6.6.8.6 Scripture: Psalm 103 Lyrics: 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 raised Above the ground we treat; So far the riches of his grace Our highest thoughts exceed. 3 His power subdues our sins, And his forgiving love, Far as the east is from the west, Doth all our guilt remove. 4 The pity of the Lord, To those who fear his name, Is such as tender parents feel; He knows our feeble frame. 5 Our days are as the grass, Or like the morning flower; If one sharp blast sweeps o'er the field, It withers in an hour. 6 But thy compassions, Lord, To endless years endure; And children's children ever find Thy words of promise sure. Topics: General Praise; Mercy in the Midst of Judgment

My soul, repeat his praise

Hymnal: Church Hymn Book; consisting of hymns and psalms, original and selected. adapted to public worship and many other occasions. 2nd ed. #325 (1838) Scripture: Psalm 103 Topics: Being and Perfections of God Languages: English