University of Virginia Library

A Preparatory Thanksgiving-Song, fetch'd from the Beginning and Conclusion of the Hundred and Third Psalm.

A Wake, my Soul, Awake, and Bless
JEHOVAH the most Blessed One:
Bless Him, and His Blest Holiness
Let all my Inward Powers Own.
The Glories of that Lord, my Soul,
Confess with Praises, just and high;
And His vast Benefits Extol
With a most Thankful Memory.
Tho' thy Sins have His Wrath incurr'd
He does those Horrid Sins Forgive;
And tho' thy Sins have thee procur'd
Diseases, These He does Relieve.
He does from Deaths and Hells dark place
Thy Life, though Forfeited, Redeem:
And with Rich Mercies of His Grace,
Thou art, How Richly! Crown'd by Him.
Thy Mouth did never Wisely Crave
That Good, which He would not afford.
Such Bowels is our Fathers have,
And more than such are in the Lord.
O ye Bright Angels, who transcend
In Might, show with your Might abroad,
While ye His Will and Voice attend,

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The Praise of our Almighty God.
Armies of Angels, that Obey
The Great Gods only Son and Heir,
His Greatness, Oh! Gladly Display:
You and We, His Glad Servants are.
All He has made, throughout His whole
Dominion too, Let all Adore
Their Maker: But, O Thou, my Soul,
Bear part with them for-ever-more.