1 Let ev’ry tongue Tthy goodness speak,
Thou sov'reign Lord of all!
Thy strength’ning hands uphold the weak,
And raise the poor that fall.

2 When sorrow bows the spirit down,
When virtue lies distrest
Beneath the proud oppressor’s frown,
Thou giv’st the mourners rest.

3 Thy grace supports our tott'ring days,
And guides our giddy youth:
Holy and just are all thy ways,
And all thy words are truth.

4 Thou know’st the pains thy servants feel;
He hear’st thy children cry,
And, their best wishes to fulfil,
Thy grace is ever nigh.

5 Thy mercy never shall remove
From men of heart sincere,
To save the souls, whose humble love
Is join'd with holy fear.