1 The heavens declare his glory, Their Maker's skill the skies: Each day repeats the story, And night to night replies. Their silent proclamation Throughout the earth is heard; The record of creation, The page of nature's word.
2 There, from his bright pavilion, Like eastern bridegroom clad, Hailed by earth's thousand million, The sun sets forth; right glad, His glorious race commencing, The mighty giant seems; Through the vast round dispensing His all-pervading beams.
3 So pure, so soul-restoring Is truth's diviner ray; A brighter radiance pouring Than all the pomp of day: The wanderer surely guiding, It makes the simple wise; And evermore abiding, Unfailing joy supplies.
The Visible World a Shadow of the Invisible.
1 I praised the earth in beauty seen, With garlands gay of various green; I praised the sea, whose ample field Shone glorious as a silver shield; And earth and ocean seemed to say, "Our beauties are but for a day."
2 I praised the sun, whose chariot rolled On wheels of amber and of gold; I praised the moon, whose softer eye Gleamed sweetly through the summer sky; And moon and sun in answer said, "Our years are told when we must fade."
3 O God, O, good beyond compare! If thus thy meaner works are fair,-- If thus thy bounties gild the span Of sinful earth and mortal man,-- How glorious must thy mansion be Where thy redeemed shall dwell with thee.
1 The turf shall be my fragrant shrine; My temple, Lord, that arch of thine, My censor's breath the mountain airs, And silent thoughts my only prayers. My choir shall be the moonlight waves, When murmuring homeward to their caves, Or when the stillness of the sea, E'en more than music breathes of thee.
2 I'll seek, by day, some glade unknown. All light and silence like thy throne, And the pale stars shall be, at night, The only eyes that watch my rite. Thy heaven, on which 'tis bliss to look, Shall be my pure and shining book, Where I can read, in words of flame, The glories of thy wondrous name.
3 There's nothing bright, above, below, From flowers that bloom, to stars that glow, But in its light my soul can see Some feature of thy Deity. There's nothing dark, below, above, But in its gloom I trace thy love, And meekly wait that moment, when Thy touch shall turn all bright again.