Hosannah, with a cheerful sound,

To God's upholding hand;

Ten thousand snares attend us round,

And yet secure we stand.

That was a most amazing power

That raised us with a word,

And every day and every hour

We lean upon the Lord.

The evening rests our weary head,

And angels guard the room;

We wake, and we admire the bed

That was not made our tomb.

The rising morning can't assure

That we shall end the day;

For death stands ready at the door

To seize our lives away.

Our breath is forfeited by sin

To God's avenging law;

We own thy grace, immortal King,

In every gasp we draw.

God is our sun, whose daily light

Our joy and safety brings;

Our feeble flesh lies safe at night

Beneath his shady wings.