I will extol thee, Lord, on high, At thy command diseases fly:
I will extol thee, Lord, on high, At thy command diseases fly: Who but a God can speak and save From the dark borders of the grave?
Sing to the Lord, ye saints of his, And tell how large his goodness is; Let all your powers rejoice and bless While you record his holiness.
His anger but a moment stays; His love is life and length of days; Though grief and tears the night employ, The morning star restores the joy.
~ Isaac Watts
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