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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 mortal cares shall seize my breast / O may my heart in tune be found / Like David’s harp of solemn sound!

My heart shall triumph in my Lord / And bless His works, and bless His Word / Thy works of grace, how bright they shine! / How deep Thy counsels, how divine!

Fools never raise their thoughts so high / Like brutes they live, like brutes they die / Like grass they flourish, till Thy breath / Blast them in everlasting death.

But I shall share a glorious part / When grace has well refined my heart / And fresh supplies of joy are shed / Like holy oil, to cheer my head.

Sin (my worst enemy before) / Shall vex my eyes and ears no more / My inward foes shall all be slain / Nor Satan break my peace again.

Then shall I see, and hear, and know / All I desired and wished below / And every power find sweet employ / In that eternal world of joy.

And then what triumphs shall I raise / To Thy dear name through endless days / For in the realms of joy I’ll see / Thy face in full felicity.

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