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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. 



Isaac Watts


Isaac Watts's other poems:
  1. Hymn 106
  2. Hymn 42
  3. Hymn 111
  4. Examples of Early Piety
  5. Hymn 100


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