Lift up your hands by morning light,
And send your souls on high;
Raise your admiring thoughts by night
Above the starry sky.
Lift up your hands by morning light,
And send your souls on high;
Raise your admiring thoughts by night
Above the starry sky.
Behold, bless the Lord,
All you servants of the Lord
‘Tis pleasant as the morning dews
That fall on Zion’s hill,
For there the Lord commanded the blessing—
Life forevermore
No sleep nor slumber to his eyes
Good David would afford,
Till he had found below the skies
A dwelling for the Lord.
Let us go to the sanctuary of the Lord;
let us worship at the footstool of his throne.
I charge my thoughts, be humble still,
And all my carriage mild;
Content, my Father, with thy will,
And quiet as a child.
I have calmed and quieted myself,
like a weaned child who no longer cries for its mother’s milk.
Yes, like a weaned child is my soul within me.
Out of the deeps of long distress,
The borders of despair,
I sent my cries to seek thy grace,
My groans to move thine ear.
Out of the depths I have cried to You, O Lord;
Lord, hear my voice!
Thus shall the men that hate the saints
Be blasted from the sky;
Their glory fades, their courage faints
And all their projects die.
The Lord is righteous;
He has cut in pieces the cords of the wicked.