1 I'll praise my Maker, whilst I've breath;
And, when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler pow'rs.
My days of praise shall ne'er be past
Whilst life and thought and being last,
or immortality endures.

2 Happy the man, whose hopes rely
on Israel's God, who made the sky
and earth and seas with all their train.
His truth for ever stands secure,
He saves th' oppress'd, he feeds the poor;
And none shall find his promise vain.

3 The Lord pours eye-sight on the blind;
the Lord supports the fainting mind
and sends the lab'ring conscience peace;
He helps the stranger in distress,
the widowed and the fatherless,
and grants the pris'ner sweet release.

4 I'll praise him, while he lends me breath;
And, when my voice is lost in death,
Praise shall employ my nobler pow'rs.
My days of praise shall ne'er be past
Whilst life and thought and being last,
or immortality endures.