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The Lord is good to all; and his tender mercies

are over all his works.

O WORSHIP the King,

All glorious above;
O gratefully sing

His power and his love;
Our Shield and Defender,

The Ancient of days,
Pavilioned in splendour,

And girded with praise.

O tell of his might,

O sing of his grace,
Whose robe is the light,

Whose canopy space ;
His chariots of wrath

Deep thunder clouds form,
And dark is his path

On the wings of the storm.

The earth with its store

Of wonders untold,
Almighty, thy power

Hath founded of old,
Hath stablish'd it fast

By changeless decree,
And round it hath cast,

Like a mantle, the sea.

Thy bountiful care

What tongue can recite ? It breathes in the air,

It shines in the light; It streams from the hills,

It descends to the plain, And sweetly distils

In the dew and the rain.

Frail children of dust,

And feeble as frail, In Thee do we trust,

Nor find Thee to fail : Thy mercies how tender!

How firm to the end ! Our Maker, Defender,

Redeemer, and Friend.

O measureless Might!

Ineffable Love ! While angels delight

To hymn Thee above, The humbler creation,

Tho' feeble their lays, With true adoration

Shall lisp to thy praise.


Let my mouth be filled with thy praise and with

thy honour all the day.
ALMIGHTY Maker, God!

How wondrous is thy name !
Thy glories, how diffused abroad

Through the creation's frame !
Nature in every dress,

Her humble homage pays,
And finds a thousand ways t'express

Thine undissembled praise.
In native white and red,

The rose and lily stand,
And free from pride, their beauties spread,

To show thy skilful hand.
The lark mounts up the sky,

With unambitious song,
And bears her Maker's name on high,

Upon her artless tongue.
My soul would rise and sing

To her Creator too ;
Fain would my tongue adore my King,

And pay the worship due.
Descend celestial fire,

And seize me from above,
Melt me in flames of pure desire,

A sacrifice to love.
Let joy and worship spend

The remnant of my days,
And to my God, my soul, ascend

In sweet perfumes of praise.


The Heavens declare the glory of God.

THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
The unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an almighty hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth :
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though in solemn silence, all
Move round this dark terrestrial ball;
What though nor real voice nor sound,
Amidst their radiant orbs be found;
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice;
For ever singing, as they shine,
“The hand that made us is divine."


Praise is comely.

THOU who art enthroned above!
Thou by whom we live and move !
Thee we bless; thy praise be sung,
While an ear can hear a tongue.

O how sweet, how excellent,
'Tis, with tongue and heart's consent,-
Thankful hearts and joyful tongues,
To renown thy name in songs.

When the morning paints the skies,
When the sparkling stars arise,
Thy high favours to rehearse,
Thy firm faith, in grateful verse.

Decks the spring with flowers the field ?
Harvests rich doth autumn yield ?
Giver of all good below!
Lord! from Thee these blessings flow.

Who thy wonders can express ?
All thy thoughts are fathomless :
Lord, Thou art most great, most high,
Such from all eternity.

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