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AWAKE, my joy, awake, I say,
Among the people I will tell
The goodness of
And shew his praise that doth excel
In heathen lands abroad.
His mercy doth extend as far
As heavens all are high,
His truth as high as any star
SECOND PART 57TH PSALM.
AWAKE my glory; harp and lute, No longer let your strings be mute; And I, my tuneful part to take, Will with the early dawn awake.
Thy praises, Lord, I will resound
O GOD, my gracious God, to thee
For thee my thirsty soul doth pant; My fainting flesh implores thy grace, Within this dry and barren place, Where I refreshing waters want.
My life, while I that life enjoy,
When down I lie sweet sleep to find, Thou, Lord, art present to my mind,
And when I wake in dead of night; Because thou still dost succour bring, Beneath the shadow of thy wing, I rest with safety and delight.
To bless thy chosen race,
That so thy wond'rous ways
May through the world be known; Whilst distant lands their tribute pay, And thy salvation own.
Let diff'ring nations join
To celebrate thy fame;
Let all the world, O Lord, combine
How pleasant is thy dwelling place,
How pleasant, Lord, they be.
My soul doth long full sore to go
Much rather had I keep a door
Then in the tents of wickedness
O Lord of Hosts, that man is blest,
That is presuaded in his breast
To trust all times in thee.
THY mercies, Lord, shall be my song, My song on them shall ever dwell;
To ages yet unborn my tongue
I have affirm'd, and still maintain,
Thy truth, that does the heav'ns sustain,
Thy saints shall always be o'erjoy'd,
How good and pleasant must it be
With ev'ry morning's early dawn
His goodness to relate;
And of his constant truth each night