« PreviousContinue »
A ransom for our souls hath found,
The psalmist's sacred harp was strung Whom kings adored in song sublime,
And prophets praised with glowing tongue: 2 Not now on Zion's height alone
The favour'd worshipper may dwell, Nor where, at sultry noon, thy Son
Sat weary by the patriarch's well. 3 From every place below the skies,
The grateful song, the fervent prayer, The incense of the heart, may rise
To heaven, and find acceptance there. 4 0 Thou, to whom, in ancient time,
The holy prophet's harp was strung; To thee, at last, in every clime,
Shall temples rise, and praise be sung.
VIERE is a God—all nature speaks,
Through earth, and air, and seas, and skies ; See—from the clouds his glory breaks,
When earliest beams of morning rise. 2 The rising sun, serenely bright,
Throughout the world's extended frame,
His mighty Maker's glorious name.
And trace creation's wonders o'er,
Bow down before him and adore.
With all the blue ethereal sky,
3 What, though in solemn silence all
A tongue in every flower,
Of thy almighty power;
Proclaim their Maker's praise,
To thee an anthem raise.
'Midst nature's loud acclaim ? Shall not my heart, with answ'ring tone,
Breathe forth thy holy name?
Nature shall cease to be;
Immortal life to me. 67
How glorious is thy Name;
Throughout creation's frame. 2 In native white and red
The rose and lily stand, And, free from pride, their beauties spread
To show thy skilful hand.
3 The lark mounts up the sky,
With unambitious song;
Upon her artless tongue.
To my Creator too;
And give him praises due. 5 Let joy and worship spend
The remnant of my days:
In sweet perfumes of praise.
Thee the creation sings :
And heaven's high palace, rings. 2 Thy hand, how wide it spreads the sky,
How glorious to behold!
And starr’d with sparkling gold. 3 There thou hast bid the globes of light
Their endless circuits run:
The day obeys the sun.
And strike the wond'ring sight, Through skies, and seas, and solid ground,
With terror and delight. 5 Infinite strength, and equal skill,
Shine through thy works abroail : Our souls with vast amazement fill,
And speak the builder God !
6 But the mild glories of thy grace,
Our softer passions move: Pity divine, in Jesus' face,
We see, adore, and love. 69
The world from nothing came.
It all reflects thy light:
And day succeeds the night.
For this the waters flow;
And trees and herbage grow.
This wise and noble end,
Shall to thy glory tend. 70
His goodness through the earth we trace,
His grandeur in the spheres. 2 Behold this fair and fertile globe,
By him in wisdom plann'd; 'Twas he who girded, like a robe,
The ocean round the land.
Thither his path pursue ;
O’erwhelms the wond'ring view.