My soul is grieved be­cause my foes
With trea­cher­ous plans my way en­close;
But from the snares that they de­vise
Their own un­do­ing shall arise.

My heart is stead­fast, O my King,
My heart is tuned Thy praise to sing;
Awake, my soul, and swell the song,
Let vib­rant harp the notes pro­long.

Yea, I will ear­ly wake and sing,
A thank­ful hymn to Thee will bring,
For un­to Hea­ven Thy mer­cies rise,
Thy truth is lof­ty as the skies.

Be Thou, O God, ex­alt­ed high,
Yea, far above the star­ry sky,
And let Thy glo­ry be dis­played
O’er all the earth Thy hands have made.