Hark, My Soul, How Every Thing
Strives to serve our bounteous King;

Each a double tribute pays;

Sings its part, and then obeys.

Nature's sweet and chiefest quire

Him with cheerful notes admire;

Chanting every day their lauds [176] ,

While the grove their song applauds.

Though their voices lower be,

Streams have too their melody;

Night and day they warbling run,

Never pause, but still sing on.

All the flowers that gild the spring

Hither their still music bring;

If Heaven bless them, thankful they

Smell more sweet, and look more gay.

Only we can scarce afford

This short office to our LORD;

We, -- on whom His bounty flows,

All things gives, and nothing owes.

Wake, for shame, my sluggish heart,

Wake, and gladly sing thy part:

Learn of birds, and springs, and flowers,

How to use thy noble powers.

Call whole Nature to thy aid,

Since 'twas He whole Nature made;

Join in one eternal song,

Who to one GOD all belong.

Live for ever, glorious LORD,

Live, by all Thy works adored;

One in Three, and Three in One,

Thrice we bow to Thee alone.


Footnotes:

[176] lauds here has reference to the Office, for which this hymn was written

clxiii fain would my thoughts
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