Yea, I will extol Thee
Lord of life and light,
For Thine arm upheld me,
Turn’d my foes to flight;
I implored Thy succour,
Thou wert swift to save,
Heal my wounded spirit,
Bring me from the grave.

Sing, ye saints, sing praises!
Call His love to mind,
For a moment angry,
But for ever kind;
Grief may, like a stranger,
Through the night sojourn,
Yet shall joy, to-morrow,
With the sun return.

In my wealth I vaunted,
“Nought shall move me hence;
Thou hast made my mountain,
Strong in Thy defence:”–
Then Thy face was hidden,
Trouble laid me low,
“Lord,” I cried right humbly,
“Why forsake me so?”

“Would my blood appease Thee,
In atonement shed?
Can the dust give glory?–
Praise employ the dead?
Hear me, Lord, in mercy,
God my Helper, hear.”
–Long Thou didst not tarry,
Help and health were near.

Thou hast turn’d my mourning
Into minstrelsy,
Girded me with gladness,
Set from thraldom free:
Thee my ransom’d powers
Henceforth shall adore,
Thee, my great Deliverer,
Laud for evermore.

Sacred Poems and Hymns