Sunday's Hymn: O Come, My Soul, Bless Thou the Lord Thy Maker

O come, my soul, bless thou the Lord thy mak­er,
And all with­in me bless His holy name;
Bless thou the Lord, for­get not all His mercies,
His par­don­ing grace and sav­ing love pro­claim.

Refrain

Bless Him for­ev­er, won­drous in might,
Bless Him, His ser­vants that in His will de­light.

Good is the Lord and full of kind com­pass­ion,
Most slow to an­ger, plen­te­ous in love;
Rich is His grace to all that hum­bly seek Him,
Boundless and end­less as the heav’ns above.

His love is like a fa­ther’s to his child­ren,
Tender and kind to all who fear His name;
For well He knows our weak­ness and our frail­ty,
He knows that we are dust, He knows our frame.

We fade and die like flow’rs that grow in beau­ty,
Like ten­der grass that soon will dis­ap­pear;
But ev­er­more the love of God is change­less,
Still shown to those who look to Him in fear.

High in the heav’ns His throne is fixed for­ev­er,
His king­dom rules o’er all from pole to pole;
Bless ye the Lord through all His wide do­min­ion,
Bless His most ho­ly name, O thou my soul.

—Trinity Psalter