Poem by Isaac Watts

Psalm 100

A plain translation. Praise to our Creator.

Ye nations round the earth, rejoice
Before the Lord, your sovereign King;
Serve him with cheerful heart and voice,
With all your tongues his glory sing.

The Lord is God; 'tis he alone
Doth life, and breath, and being give;
We are his work, and not our own,
The sheep that on his pastures live.

Enter his gates with songs of joy,
With praises to his courts repair;
And make it your divine employ
To pay your thanks and honors there.

The Lord is good, the Lord is kind,
Great is his grace, his mercy sure;
And the whole race of man shall find
His truth from age to age endure. 

1. How Precious, Lord, Thy Sacred Word
2. Hymn 18
3. Examples of Early Piety
4. Hymn 100
5. Hymn 102

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