Psalm 147 (song 1)

Henry Francis Lyte

2 Great is His power, divine His skill,
His love diviner, greater still;
The sinner's Friend, the mourner's stay,
He sends no suppliant sad away.

3 The lions roar to Him for bread,
The ravens by His hand are fed;
And shall His chosen flock despair?
Shall they mistrust their Shepherd's care?

4 His church is precious in His sight;
He makes her glory His delight,
His treasures on her head are pour'd;
O Zion's children, praise the Lord.

Henry Francis Lyte, 1834.