37 ~ O Sing, My Soul, Your Maker's Praise
O sing my soul, your Maker's praise In grateful hymns ascending; Whose steadfast love has crowned your days With heav'nly gifts unending. I sought the Lord, He heard my cry; His holy angels hover nigh The tents of those who love Him.
The Lord is good to those who seek His face in time of sorrow, Pro'viding comfort to the weak And grace for each tomorrow. Though grief may tarry for a night, The morn shall break in joy and light With blessings from His presence.
The Lord will turn His face in peace When troubled souls draw near Him; His lovingkindness shall not cease To those who trust and fear Him. Our God will not forsake His own; Eternal is His heav'nly throne; His kingdom stands forever.