Words: Isaac Watts
PART 1. A Psalm for the Lords day. 1 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. 2 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! 3 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! 4 Fools never raise their thoughts so high; Like brutes they live, like brutes they die; Like grass they flourish, till thy breath Blast them in everlasting death. 5 But I shall share a glorious part When grace hath well refined my heart; And fresh supplies of joy are shed, Like holy oil, to cheer my head. 6 Sin (my worst enemy before) Shall vex my eyes and ears no more; My inward foes shall all be slain, Nor Satan break my peace again. 7 Then shall I see, and hear, and know All I desired or wished below; And ev'ry power find sweet employ In that eternal world of joy. v. 12, &c. Part 2. The church is the garden of God. 1 Lord, 'tis a pleasant thing to stand In gardens planted by thine hand; Let me within thy courts be seen, Like a young cedar, fresh and green. 2 There grow thy saints in faith and love, Blessed with thine influence from above; Not Lebanon with all its trees Yields such a comely sight as these. 3 The plants of grace shall ever live; (Nature decays, but grace must thrive;) Time, that doth all things else impair, Still makes them flourish strong and fair. 4 Laden with fruits of age, they show The Lord is holy, just, and true; None that attend his gates shall find A God unfaithful or unkind.