v.14,17ff <br />C. M. <br />Mercy to sufferers; or, God hearing prayer. <br /> <br />Let every tongue thy goodness speak, <br />Thou sovereign Lord of all; <br />Thy strength'ning hands uphold the weak, <br />And raise the poor that fall. <br /> <br />When sorrow bows the spirit down, <br />Or virtue lies distressed <br />Beneath some proud oppressor's frown, <br />Thou giv'st the mourners rest. <br /> <br />The Lord supports our tott'ring days, <br />And guides our giddy youth; <br />Holy and just are all his ways, <br />And all his words are truth. <br /> <br />He knows the pains his servants feel, <br />He hears his children cry, <br />And their best wishes to fulfil, <br />His grace is ever nigh. <br /> <br />His mercy never shall remove <br />From men of heart sincere; <br />He saves the souls whose humble love <br />Is joined with holy fear. <br /> <br />[His stubborn foes his sword shall slay, <br />And pierce their hearts with pain <br />But none that serve the Lord shall say, <br />"They sought his aid in vain."] <br /> <br />[My lips shall dwell upon his praise, <br />And spread his fame abroad; <br />Let all the sons of Adam raise <br />The honors of their God.]<br /><br />Isaac Watts<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/psalm-145-part-3/
