1 I'll celebrate thy praises, Lord,
who didst thy pow'r employ
To raise my drooping head, and check
my foes insulting joy.
2,3 In my distress, I cried to thee,
who kindly didst relieve,
And from the grave's expecting jaws
my hopeless life retrieve.
4 Thus to his courts, ye saints of his,
with songs of praise repair;
With me commemorate his truth,
and providential care.
5 His wrath has but a moment's reign,
his favor no decay;
Your night of grief is recompensed
with joy's returning day.
6 But I in prosp'rous days presumed;
no sudden change I feared,
Whilst in my sunshine of success
no low'ring cloud appeared.
7 But soon I found thy favor, Lord,
my empire's only trust;
For when thou hid'st thy face, I saw
my honor laid in dust.
8 Then, as I vainly had presumed,
my error I confessed;
And thus, with supplicating voice,
thy mercy's throne addressed:
9 "What profit is there in my blood,
congealed by death's cold night?
Can silent ashes speak thy praise,
thy wondrous truth recite?"
10 "Hear me, O Lord; in mercy, hear:
thy wonted aid extend;
Do thou send help, on whom alone
I can for help depend."
11 'Tis done! Thou hast my mournful scene
to songs and dances turned;
Invested me with robes of state,
who late in sackcloth mourned.
12 Exalted thus, I'll gladly: sing
thy praise in grateful verse;
And, as thy favors endless are,
Thy endless praise rehearse.