1 BLESSED be for evermore
That dread Name which we adore!
Round the world his praise be sung,
Through all lands, in every tongue.
2 O'er all nations God alone, -
Higher than the heavens his throne!
Who is like to God most high,
Infinite in majesty?
3 Yet to view the heavens he bends:
Yea, to earth he condescends;
Raising up the poor to stand
With the princes of the land.
4 He the broken spirit cheers;
Turns to joy the mourner's tears;
Such the wonders of his ways!
Praise his name, for ever praise.
1 GREATEST of beings! Source of life,
Sovereign of air, and earth, and sea!
All nature feels thy power, and all
A silent homage pays to thee.
2 Waked by thy hand, the morning sun
Pours forth to thee its earlier rays,
And spreads thy glories as it climbs,
While raptured worlds look up and praise.
3 The moon, to the deep shades of night,
Speaks the mild lustre of thy name;
While all the stars that cheer the scene
Thee, the great Lord of light, proclaim.
4 And groves, and vales, and rocks, and hills, And every flower, and every tree,
Ten thousand creatures warm with life,
Have each a grateful song for thee.
5 But man was formed to rise to heaven;
And, blest with reason's clearer light,
He views his Maker through his works,
And glows with rapture at the sight.
6 Nor can the thousand songs that rise,
Whether from air, or earth, or sea,
So well repeat Jehovah's praise,
Or raise such sacred harmony.
1 THOU who dwell'st enthroned above!
Thou, in whom we live and move!
Thou who art most great, most high!
God from all eternity!
2 O how sweet, how excellent,
'T is when tongues and hearts consent,
Grateful hearts and joyful tongues,
Hymning thee in tuneful songs!
3 When the morning paints the skies,
When the stars of evening rise,
We thy praises will record,
Sovereign Ruler, mighty Lord!
4 Decks the spring with flowers the field? Harvest rich doth autumn yield? Giver of all good below!
Lord, from thee these blessings flow.
5 Sovereign Ruler! mighty Lord!
We thy praises will record:
Giver of these blessings! we
Pour the grateful song to thee.
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 to express
Thine undissembled praise.
3 In native white and red
The rose and lily stand,
And free from pride their beauties spread, To show thy skilful hand.
4 The lark mounts up
With unambitious song,
And bears her Maker's praise 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.
6 In joy, then, let me spend
The remnant of my days;
And to my God my soul ascend,
In sweet perfume of praise.
Adoring Praise. Psalm 104.
1 O PRAISE ye the Lord, his greatness proclaim;
Jehovah, our God, how awful thy name!
How vast is thy power, thy glory how great;
Lo, myriads of spirits thy mandates await!
2 Thy canopy 's heaven, in splendor so bright;
Thy chariot the clouds, thy garment the light;
The works of creation thy bidding perform;
Thou ridest the whirlwind, directest the storm.
3 What wisdom is shown, what power displayed,
In all that thy hand hath fashioned and made!
The earth full of riches, in beauty complete;
The fathomless ocean, with wonders replete.
4 O thou, our great God, Redeemer and King,
With hearts full of love, to thee will we sing;
To life's latest moment our voices we 'll raise,
And join the full chorus of blessing and praise.
1 My soul, inspired with sacred love,
God's holy name for ever bless;
Of all his favors mindful prove,
And still thy grateful thanks express.
2 The Lord abounds with tender love,
And unexampled acts of grace:
His wakened wrath doth slowly move,
His willing mercy flows apace.
3 God will not always harshly chide,
But with his anger quickly part;
And loves his punishments to guide,
More by his love than our desert.
4 As high as heaven its arch extends
Above this little spot of clay;
So much his boundless love transcends
The small respects that we can pay.
5 As far as 't is from east to west,
So far has he our sins removed,
Who, with a father's tender breast,
Has such as feared him always loved.
Praise of God peculiarly due from Man.
1 THERE seems a voice in every gale,
A tongue in every opening flower,
Which tells, O Lord! the wondrous tale
Of thy indulgence, love, and power.
2 The birds that rise on soaring wing
Appear to hymn their Maker's praise,
And all the mingling sounds of spring
To thee a general pæan raise.
3 And shall my voice, Great God, alone
Be mute 'midst nature's loud acclaim?
O let my heart with answering tone
Breathe forth in praise thy holy name.
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