“I will exalt thee, Lord of hosts,

For thou’st exalted me;

Since thou hast silenced Satan’s boasts,

I’ll therefore boast in thee.

My sins had brought me near the grave,

The grave of black despair;

I look’d but there was not to save,

Till I look’d up in prayer.

In answer to my piteous cries,

From hell’s dark brink I’m brought;

My Jesus saw me from the skies,

And swift salvation wrought.

All through the night I wept full sore,

But morning brought relief;

That hand, which broke my bones before,

Then broke my bonds of grief.

My mourning he to dancing turns,

For sackcloth joy he gives,

A moment, Lord, thine anger burns,

But long thy favour lives.

Sing with me then, ye favoured men,

Who long have known his grace;

With thanks recall the seasons when

Ye also sought his face.”