Metrical 'Old Version' (John Hopkins)
1 All laud and praise with heart and voice,
O Lord, I give to thee,
Who didst not make my foes rejoice,
But hast exalted me.
2 O Lord my God, to thee I cry'd
In all my pain and grief;
Thou gav'st an ear, and didst provide
To ease me with relief.
3 Thou, Lord, hast brought my soul from hell,
And thou the same didst save
From them that in the pit do dwell,
And kept'st me from the grave.
4 Sing praise, ye saints, that prove and see
The goodness of the Lord;
In honour of his Majesty
Rejoice with one accord.
5 For why? his anger but a space
Doth last, ceasing again;
But in his favour and his grace
Always doth life remain.
6 Though heaviness and pangs full sore
Abide with us all night,
The Lord to joy shall us restore
Before the day be light.
7 When I enjoy'd the world at will,
Thus would I boast and say,
Tush, I am sure to feel no ill,
My wealth shall not decay:
8 For thou, O Lord, of thy good grace,
Didst send me strength and aid;
But when thou turn'dst away tby face,
My mind was sore dismay'd.
9 Wherefore again then did I cry
To thee, O Lord of might,
And my complaints did multiply,
Praying both day and night.
10 What gain is in my blood, said I,
If death destroy my days?
Can dust declare thy Majesty,
Or give thy truth its praise?
11 Wherefore, my God, some pity take,
O Lord, I thee desire;
Do not, O Lord, my soul forsake,
Of thee I help require.
12 Then thou didst turn my grief and woe
Into a cheerful voice;
My sackcloth didst take off also,
And mad'st me to rejoice.
13 Wherefore my soul incessantly
Shall sing unto thy praise;
O Lord my God, to thee will I
Give laud and thanks always.
Metrical 'New Version' (Tate/Brady)
1 I'll celebrate thy praises, Lord,
Who didst thy pow'r employ
To raise my drooping head, and check
My foes' insulting joy.
2-3 In my distress I cried to thee,
Who kindly didst relieve,
And from the grave's expecting jaws
My hopeless life retrieve.
4 Thus to his courts, ye saints of his,
With songs of praise repair;
With me commemorate his truth,
And providential care.
5 His wrath has but a moment's reign,
His favour no decay;
Your night of grief is recompens'd
With joy's returning day.
6 But I in prosp'rous days presum'd;
No sudden change I fear'd,
Whilst in my sunshine of success
No low'ring cloud appear'd.
7 But soon I found thy favour, Lord,
My empire's only trust;
For when thou hid'st thy face, I saw
My honour laid in dust.
8 Then, as I vainly had presum'd,
My error I confess'd;
And thus, with supplicating voice,
Thy mercy's throne address'd:
9 What profit is there in my blood,
Congeal'd by death's cold night?
Can silent ashes speak thy praise,
Thy wondrous truth recite?
10 Hear me, O Lord; in mercy, hear:
Thy wonted aid extend;
Do thou send help, on whom alone
I can for help depend.
11 'Tis done! Thou hast my mournful scene
To songs and dances turn'd;
Invested me with robes of state,
Who late in sackcloth mourn'd.
12 Exalted thus, I'll gladly sing
Thy praise in grateful verse;
And, as thy favours endless are,
Thy endless praise rehearse.