1 I will extol thee, Lord on high;
At thy command diseases fly:
Who but a God can speak and save
From the dark borders of the grave?

2 Sing to the Lord, ye saints, and prove
How large his grace, how kind his love;
Let all your powers rejoice, and trace,
The wond'rous records of his grace.

3 His anger but a moment stays;
His love is life and length of days:
Tho' grief and tears the night employ
The morning star restores the joy.