158. L. M. Watts. The Same. Ps. 145. 1 My God, my King, thy various praise Shall fill the remnant of my days; Thy grace employ my humble tongue Till death and glory raise the song. 2 The wings of every hour shall bear Some thankful tribute to thine ear; And every setting sun shall see New works of duty done for thee. 3 Let distant times and nations raise The long succession of thy praise, And unborn ages make my song The joy and labor of their tongue. 4 But who can speak thy wondrous deeds? Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds Vast and unsearchable thy ways: Vast and immortal be thy praise. 159. 6s. 6s. & 4s. M. Anonymous. The Same. Ps. 150. 1 Praise ye Jehovah's name; Praise through his courts proclaim; Rise and adore;-- High o'er the heavens above Sound his great acts of love, While his rich grace we prove, Vast as his power. 2 Now let the trumpet raise Sounds of triumphant praise Wide as his fame; There let the harp be found; Organs, with solemn sound, Roll your deep notes around, Filled with his name. 3 While his high praise ye sing, Shake every sounding string: Sweet the accord!-- He vital breath bestows: Let every breath that flows His noblest fame disclose-- Praise ye the Lord. 160. H. M. Tate & Brady. Praise from Heaven and Earth. 1 Ye boundless realms of joy, Exalt your Maker's name; His praise your songs employ Above the starry frame: Your voices raise, Ye cherubim And seraphim, To sing his praise. 2 Let all adore the Lord, And praise his holy name, By whose almighty word They all from nothing came; And all shall last, From changes free; His firm decree Stands ever fast. 161. C. P. M. Ogilvie. Praise from all Nature. Ps. 148. 1 Begin, my soul, th' exalted lay; Let each enraptured thought obey, And praise th' Almighty's name. Lo, heaven and earth and seas and skies In one melodious concert rise To swell th' inspiring theme. 2 Thou heaven of heavens, his vast abode-- Ye clouds, proclaim your Maker, God; Ye thunders, speak his power. Lo, on the lightning's rapid wings In triumph rides the King of Kings: Th' astonished worlds adore. 3 Ye deeps with roaring billows rise To join the thunders of the skies-- Praise him who bids you roll. His praise in softer notes declare, Each whispering breeze of yielding air, And breathe it to the soul.