I'll Praise My Maker

I'll praise my Mak-er while I've breath, And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall em-ploy my nob-ler powers; My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and be-ing last, Or im-mor-tal-i-ty en-dures. Hap-py the man whose hopes re-ly On Is-rael's God: He made the sky, And earth, and seas, with all their train; His truth for-ev-er stands se-cure, He saves the op-pressed, He feeds the poor, And none shall find His pro-mise vain. The Lord pours eye-sight on the blind; The Lord sup-ports the faint-ing mind; He sends the labor-ing con-science peace; He helps the stran-ger in dis-tress, The wi-dow, and the fa-ther-less, And grants the pris-oner sweet re-lease. I'll praise Him while He lends me breath, And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall em-ploy my no-bler powers; My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and be-ing last, Or im-mor-tal-i-ty en-dures.