1 I'll praise my Maker while 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,
While life, and though, and being last,
Or immortality endures.

2 Happy the man whose hopes rely
On Nature's God — he made the sky,
And earth, and seas, with all their train;
His truth forever stands secure,
He saves th' opprest, he feeds the poor,
And none shall find his promise vain.

3 The Lord hath eyes to give the blind,
The Lord supports the sinking mind,
He sends the lab'ring conscience peace,
He helps the stranger in distress,
The widow and the fatherless,
And grants the prisoner sweet release.

4 I'll praise him while he lend's 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,
While life, and thought, and neing last,
Or immortality endures.