Sweet is the work, my God, my King,
To praise thy name, give thanks and sing;
To show thy love by morning light,
And talk of all thy truth at night.
Sweet is the day of sacred rest;
No earthly care shall fill my breast;
O, may my heart in tune be found,
Like David's harp of solemn sound!
My heart shall triumph in the Lord,
And bless his works, and bless his word.
His works of grace, how bright they shine!
How deep his counsels! how divine!
And I shall share a glorious part
When grace hath well refined my heart,
And fresh supplies of joy are shed,
Like holy oil, to cheer my head.
E'en now I see, and hear, and know
More than I hoped for here below,
And ev'ry pow'r finds sweet employ
Proclaiming tidings of great joy.