37. O Sing, My Soul, Your Maker's Praise

1 O sing my soul, your Maker’s praise In grateful hymns ascending; Whose steadfast love has crowned your days With heav’nly gifts un ending. I sought the Lord, He heard my cry; His holy angels hover nigh The tents of those who love Him. 2 The Lord is good to those who seek His face in time of sorrow, Providing comfort to the weak And grace for each tomorrow. Though grief may tarry for a night, The morn shall break in joy and light With blessings from His presence. 3 The Lord will turn His face in peace When troubled souls draw near Him; His loving kindness shall not cease To those who trust and fear Him. Our God will not forsake His own; Eternal is His heav’nly throne; His kingdom stands forever.