Psalms 103:3-4

• [Psa 103:3] Holy God, We Praise Thy Name

  Holy God, we praise Thy Name; Lord of all, we bow before Thee! All on earth Thy scepter claim, All in Heaven above adore Thee; Infinite Thy vast domain, Everlasting is Thy reign. Hark! the loud celestial hymn Angel choirs above are raising, Cherubim and seraphim, In unceasing chorus praising; Fill the heavens with sweet accord: Holy, holy, holy, Lord. Lo! the apostolic train Join the sacred Name to hallow; Prophets swell the loud refrain, And the white robed martyrs follow; And from morn to set of sun, Through the Church the song goes on. Holy Father, Holy Son, Holy Spirit, Three we name Thee; While in essence only One, Undivided God we claim Thee; And adoring bend the knee, While we own the mystery. Thou art King of glory, Christ: Son of God, yet born of Mary; For us sinners sacrificed, And to death a tributary: First to break the bars of death, Thou has opened Heaven to faith. From Thy high celestial home, Judge of all, again returning, We believe that Thou shalt come In the dreaded doomsday morning; When Thy voice shall shake the earth, And the startled dead come forth. Therefore do we pray Thee, Lord: Help Thy servants whom, redeeming By Thy precious blood out-poured, Thou hast saved from Satan’s scheming. Give to them eternal rest In the glory of the blest. Spare Thy people, Lord, we pray, By a thousand snares surrounded: Keep us without sin today, Never let us be confounded. Lo, I put my trust in Thee; Never, Lord, abandon me.

  Play

  source: Cyberhymnal

Psalms 103:7-8

• [Psa 103:8] Lord, How Wondrous Are His Ways, The

  The Lord, how wondrous are His ways! How firm His truth! how large His grace! He takes His mercy for His throne, And thence He makes His glories known. Not half so high His power hath spread The starry heav’ns above our head, As His rich love exceeds our praise, Exceeds the highest hopes we raise. Not half so far hath nature placed The rising morning from the west, As His forgiving grace removes The daily guilt of those He loves. How slowly doth His wrath arise! On swifter wings salvation flies; And if He lets His anger burn, How soon His frowns to pity turn. Amidst His wrath compassion shines; His strokes are lighter than our sins; And while His rod corrects His saints, His ear indulges their complaints. So fathers their young sons chastise With gentle hand and melting eyes; The children weep beneath the smart, And move the pity of their heart. The mighty God, the wise and just, Knows that our frame is feeble dust; And will no heavy loads impose Beyond the strength that He bestows. He knows how soon our nature dies, Blasted by every wind that flies; Like grass we spring, and die as soon, Or morning flowers that fade at noon. But His eternal love is sure To all the saints, and shall endure; From age to age His truth shall reign, Nor children’s children hope in vain.

  Play

  source: Cyberhymnal