God of the psalmists

God of the psalmists, who calls our hearts to sing, 

We lift our praises to you in everything.

In days of joy and times of mirth and even in sorrow’s shade,

We sing our songs of gratitude for all of the world that you have made.

 

Yes, God, we praise you with voices and with more; 

Horn, flute, and trumpet your praises will outpour.

With resonating of the bells and clashing cymbals high

We lift to you, our living Lord, all praise from the land and sea and sky.

 

Pipes of the organ and bright piano strings,

Loud stirring drums, too, and quiet, softer things,

All strings now plucked and strummed and bowed resound in praise to you,

Our God, the source of all good gifts and giver of songs both old and new.

 

Music we offer in praises and in prayer,

Even as we yearn for the time that you prepare,

When all our song and all our praise we offer face to face

In time unending that you give in all of your mercy, love, and grace.

 

 

TEXT: Charles Spence Freeman, June 2021.

MUSIC: Suggested tune SYMPHONY, Johannes Brahms, 1877; arr. Fred Bock, 1976. Arrangement copyright 1976 Fred Bock Music Co. All rights reserved. (Therefore, not reprinted here.)

 

The text came forth after the happy accident of hearing the Brahms Symphony No. 1 finale (from which this tune is adapted) on the radio.