Christian Classics
‹ The Chorale Book for England

Catherine Winkworth (trans. & ed.) · 12 of 213

7. My soul, now praise thy Maker

Praise and Thanksgiving

(LXXIV.--"Nun lob' mein Seel' den Herren.")

Original Tune.

My soul, now praise thy Maker! Let all within me bless His name, Who maketh thee partaker Of mercies more than thou dar'st claim! Forget him not, whose Still bears with all thy sin, Who healeth all thy weakness, Renews thy life within, Whose and care are endless, And sav'd thee thro' the past; Who leaves no suff'rer friendless, But rights the wrong'd at last!

He shows to man His treasure Of judgment, truth, and , His love beyond our measure, His yearning pity o'er distress; Nor treats us as we merit, But lays His anger by, The humble spirit Finds His compassions ; And high as heaven above us, As break from close of day, So far, since He doth love us, He puts our sins away.

For as a tender father Hath pity on his children here, He in His arms will gather All who are His in childlike fear; He knows how frail our powers, Who but from dust are made, We flourish as the flowers, And even so we fade, A storm-wind o'er them passes, And all their bloom is o'er,-- We wither like the grasses, Our place knows us no more.

His alone endureth, And children's children yet shall prove How God with strength assureth The hearts of all that seek His love. In heaven is fixed His dwelling, His rule is over all, Angels in might excelling, Bright hosts, before Him fall! Praise Him who ever reigneth, All ye who hear His word; Nor our poor hymns disdaineth,-- My soul, O praise the Lord!

Nun lob' mein Seel' den Herren