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56t America



My soul, repeat His praise,
Whose mercies are so great,
Whose anger is so slow to rise,
So ready to abate.

God will not always chide,
And when His strokes are felt,
His strokes are fewer than our crimes,
And lighter than our guilt.


Listen Download 
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/056t-america/56t%20America%20synth%20text%201%20Treble%20%28f%29.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/056t-america/56t%20America%20synth%20text%201%20Treble%20%28m%29.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/056t-america/56t%20America%20synth%20text%202%20Alto.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/056t-america/56t%20America%20synth%20text%203%20Tenor.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/056t-america/56t%20America%20synth%20text%204%20Bass.mp3
http://sevenshapes.sacredharpbremen.org/resources/songs/1---99/056t-america/56t%20America%20synth%20text.mp3