Dublin Core




"The heavens, O Lord! Thy power proclaim,
And the earth echoes back, Thy Name;
Ten thousand voices speak Thy might,
And day to day, and night to night,
Utter Thy praise! - Thou Lord above!
Thy praise - Thy glory - and Thy love.

All things I see, or hear, or feel,
They wisdom, goodness, power reveal.
The silent crescent hung on high,
So calmly sailing through the sky;
The lowliest flower that lights the dells;
The lightest wave the stream that swells -

The breeze that o'er the garden plays;
The farthest planet's glimmering rays;
The dew upon the distant hill;
The vapours that the valley fill;
The groves untutor'd harmony -
All speak, and loudly speak of Thee.

Thy name, thy glories, they rehearse,
Great Spirit of the universe;
Sense of all sense, and Soul of soul,
Nought is too vast for Thy controul;
The meanest and the mightiest share
Alike Thy kindness and Thy care.

Beneath Thy all directing nod,
Both worlds and worms are equal, God;
Thy hand the comet's orbits drew,
And lighted yonder glow-worms too;
Thou didst the dome of heaven build up,
And form'dst yon snow-drop's silver cup.

And nature with its countless throng,
And sun and moon and planet's song:
And every flower that light received,
And every dew that tips its leaves,
And every murmur of the sea -
Tunes its sweet voice to worship Thee."




1:33, p. 132





Unattributed, “Hymn,” Periodical Poets, accessed April 14, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/83.


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