1 The glories of my Maker God, My joyful voice shall sing, And call the nations to adore Their Former and their King. 2 'Twas his right-hand that shap'd our clay, And wrought this human frame, But from his own immediate breath Our nobler spirits came. 3 We bring our mortal powers to God, And worship with our tongues: We claim some kindred with the skies And join th' angelic songs. 4 Let groveling beasts of every shape, And fowls of every wing, And rocks, and trees, and fires, and seas, Their various tribute bring. 5 Ye planets, to his honour shine, And wheels of nature roll, Praise him in your unwearied course Around the steady pole. 6 The brightness of our Maker's Name The wide creation fills, And his unbounded grandeur flies Beyond the heavenly hills. |