Sweet is the work, my God, my King
Sweet is the work, my God, my King,
to praise thy Name, give thanks and sing,
to show thy love by morning light
and talk of all thy truth at night.
Sweet is the day of sacred rest,
no mortal cares shall seize my breast.
O may my heart in tune be found,
like David's harp of solemn sound!
My heart shall triumph in my Lord
and bless his works and bless his Word.
thy works of grace, how bright they shine!
how deep thy counsels, how divine!
Then shall I see, and hear, and know
all I desired and wished below;
and every power find sweet employ
in that eternal world of joy.
Words: Isaac Watts, 1719
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