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“All my springs are in thee.” Ps. 87. 7 

S. Medley                               C.M.

1
Now, dearest Lord, to praise thy name,
Let all our powers agree;
Worthy art thou of endless fame;
Our springs are all in thee.

2
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.

3
To whom, dear Jesus, O to whom
Shall needy sinners flee
But to thyself, who bidst us come?
Our springs are all in thee.

4
Some tempted, weak, and trembling saint
Before thee now may be;
Let not his hopes or wishes faint;
His springs are all in thee.

5
The poor supply, the wounded heal,
Let sinners such as we,
Salvation’s blessings taste and feel;
Our springs are all in thee.

6
When we arrive at Zion’s hill,
And all thy glory see,
Our joyful songs shall echo still,
Our springs are all in thee.