Praise ye the Lord, exalt his name,

While in his holy courts ye wait,

Ye saints, that to his house belong,

Or stand attending at his gate.

Praise ye the Lord, the Lord is good;

To praise his name is sweet employ:

Isr'el he chose of old, and still

His church is his peculiar joy.

The Lord himself will judge his saints;

He treats his servants as his friends;

And when he hears their sore complaints,

Repents the sorrows that he sends.

Through every age the Lord declares

His name, and breaks th' oppressor's rod

He gives his suff'ring servants rest,

And will be known th' Almighty God.

Bless ye the Lord, who taste his love,

People and priest, exalt his name:

Amongst his saints he ever dwells;

His church is his Jerusalem.