Now, dearest Lord, to praise thy name,

Now, dearest Lord, to praise thy name,
Let all our powers agree;
Worthy art thou of endless fame;
Our springs are all in thee.

Here in thy love will we rejoice,
All sovereign, rich, and free;
Singing, we hope with heart and voice,
Our springs are all in thee.

To whom, dear Jesus, O to whom
Shall needy sinners flee
But to thyself, who bidst us come?
Our springs are all in thee.

Some tempted, weak, and trembling saint
Before thee now may be;
Let not his hopes or wishes faint;
His springs are all in thee.

The poor supply, the wounded heal,
Let sinners such as we,
Salvation's blessings taste and feel;
Our springs are all in thee.

When we arrive at Zion's hill,
And all thy glory see,
Our joyful songs shall echo still,
Our springs are all in thee.