1 I will sing my Maker's praises
And in him most joyful be,
For in all things I see traces
Of his tender love for me.
Nothing else than love could move him
With such deep and tender care
Evermore to raise and bear
All who try to serve and love him.
All things else have but their day;
God's great love abides for aye.

2 He so cared for and esteemed me
That the Son he loved so well
He has given to redeem me
From the quenchless flames of hell.
O my Lord, the Spring of blessing,
Could somehow my finite mind
Of your love the limit find,
Though my efforts were unceasing?
All things else have but their day;
God's great love abides for aye.

3 All that for my soul is needful
He with loving care provides,
Nor of that is he unheedful
Which my body needs besides.
When my strength cannot avail me,
When my pow'rs can do no more,
Then will God his strength outpour;
In my need he will not fail me.
All things else have but their day;
God's great love abides for aye.

4 Since there's neither change nor coldness
In God's love that on me smiled,
I now lift my hands in boldness,
Coming to you as your child.
Grant me grace, O God, I pray you,
That I may with all my might,
All my lifetime, day and night,
Love and trust you and obey you
And, when this brief life is o'er,
Praise and love you evermore.