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037 – O Sing, My Soul, Your Maker’s Praise

1
O sing my soul, your Maker’s praise
In grateful hymns ascending;
Whose steadfast love has crowned your days
With heav’nly gifts unending.
I sought the Lord, He heard my cry;
His holy angels hover nigh
The tents of those who love Him.
2
The Lord is good to those who seek
His face in time of sorrow,
Providing comfort to the weak
And grace for each tomorrow.
Though grief may tarry for a night,
The morn shall break in joy and light
With blessings from His presence.
3
The Lord will turn His face in peace
When troubled souls draw near Him;
His loving-kindness shall not cease
To those who trust and fear Him.
Our God will not forsake His own;
Eternal is His heav’nly throne;
His kingdom stands forever.

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Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?

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