Praise to God, Immortal Praise (EN 1161)

EN 1161 Praise to God, Immortal Praise

Ps.67.3

Versi Version 1

1

Praise to God, immortal praise,

For the love that crowns our days;

Bounteous Source of every joy,

Let Thy praise our tongues employ.

2

Flocks that whiten all the plain;

Yellow sheaves of ripened grain;

Clouds that drop their fattening dews,

Suns that temperate warmth diffuse.

3

All that Spring with bounteous hand

Scatters o’er the smiling land;

All that liberal Autumn pours

From her rich o’erflowing stores.

4

These to Thee, my God, we owe,

Source whence all our blessings flow;

And for these my soul shall raise

Grateful vows and solemn praise.

5

Yet, should rising whirlwinds tear

From its stem the ripening ear;

Should the fig tree’s blasted shoot

Drop her green untimely fruit,

6

Should the vine put forth no more,

Nor the olive yield her store;

Though the sickening flocks should fall,

And the herds desert the stall,

7

Yet to Thee my soul shall raise

Grateful vows and solemn praise;

And, when every blessing’s flown

Love Thee for Thyself alone.

OK

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