Praise the Sav­ior, all ye nations,
Praise Him, all ye hosts above;
Shout, with joyful acclamation,
His divine, vic­to­ri­ous love;
Be His kingdom now promoted,
Let the earth her monarch know;
Be my all to Him devoted,
To my Lord my all I owe.

See how beauteous on the mountains
Are their feet, whose grand design
Is to guide us to the fountains
That o’erflow with bliss divine,
Who pro­claim the joyful tidings
Of sal­va­tion all around,
Disregard the world’s deridings,
And in works of love abound.

With my substance will I honor
My Re­deem­er and my Lord;
Were ten thousand worlds my manor,
All were nothing to His Word:
While the heralds of sal­va­tion
His abounding grace pro­claim,
Let His friends, of every station,
Gladly join to spread His fame.