Psalm 118 Part 2 - Poem by Isaac Watts
Public praise for deliverance from death.
Lord, thou hast heard thy servant cry
And rescued from the grave;
Now shall he live; and none can die,
If God resolve to save.
Thy praise, more constant than before,
Shall fill his daily breath;
Thy hand, that hath chastised him sore,
Defends him still from death.
Open the gates of Zion now,
For we shall worship there;
The house where all the righteous go
Thy mercy to declare.
Among th' assemblies of thy saints
Our thankful voice we raise;
There we have told thee our complaints,
And there we speak thy praise.
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