My Sav­ior, my al­migh­ty friend,
When I be­gin Thy praise,
Where will the grow­ing num­bers end,
The num­bers of Thy grace?

Thou art my ev­er­last­ing trust,
Thy good­ness I adore;
And since I knew Thy grac­es first,
I speak Thy glo­ries more.

My feet shall tra­vel all the length
Of the ce­les­ti­al road,
And march with cour­age in Thy strength,
To see my Fa­ther God.

When I am filled with sore dis­tress
For some sur­pris­ing sin,
I’ll plead Thy per­fect righ­teous­ness,
And men­tion none but Thine.

How will my lips re­joice to tell
The vic­to­ries of my king!
My soul, re­deemed from sin and hell,
Shall Thy sal­va­tion bring.

My tongue shall all the day pro­claim
My Sav­ior and my God:
His death has brought my foes to shame,
And drowned them in His blood.

Awake, awake, my tune­ful pow­ers;
With this de­light­ful song
I’ll en­ter­tain the dark­est hours
Nor think the sea­son long.