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His praise let ocean thro' her realms difplay,
For as her circling billows can convey!
His praife, ye misty vapours, wide diffuse,
In rains defcending, or in milder dews;
His praises whisper, ye majeftic trees,
As your tops ruftle to the vocal breeze!
His praife around, ye flow'ry tribes exhale,
Far as your sweets embalm the spicy gale!
His praise ye dimpled ftreams, to earth reveal,
As pleas'd ye murmur thro' the flow'ry vale.
His praise ye feather'd choirs diftinguish'd fing,
As to your notes the tuneful forests ring!
His praise proclaim, ye monsters of the deep,
Who in the vast abyfs your revels keep!
Or ye fair natives of our earthly fcene,
Who range the wilds, or haunt the pasture green!
Nor thou, vain lord of earth, with careless ear,
The univerfal hymn of worship hear!
But ardent in the facred chorus join,
Thy foul transported with the task divine!
While by his works th' Almighty is confess'd,
Supremely glorious, and fupremely blefs'd!
Great Lord of life! from whom this humble frame
Derives the pow'r to fing thy holy name,
Forgive the lowly mufe, whofe artless lay
Has dar'd thy facred attributes furvey!
Delighted oft thro' nature's beauteous field,
Has he ador'd thy Wisdom bright reveal'd;
Oft have her wishes aim'd the fecret fong,
But awful rev'rence still with-held her tongue:
Yet as thy bounty lent the reas'ning beam,
As feels my conscious breaft thy vital flame,
So, bleft Creator, let thy fervant pay
His mite of gratitude this feeble way,
Thy Goodness own, thy Providence adore,
He yields thee only-what was thine before!
HESE are thy glorious works, parent of good,
Almighty, thine this univerfal frame,
Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then!
Unfpeakable, who fitt'st above these heav'ns,
To us invifible, or dimly feen
In these thy lowest works; yet these declare
Thy goodness beyond thought, and pow'r divine.
Speak ye who beft can tell, ye fons of light,
Angels; for ye behold him, and with fongs
And choral fymphonies, day without night,
Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heav'n,
On earth join all ye creatures to extol
Him firft, him laft, him midft, and without end.
Fairest of stars, laft in the train of night,
If better thou belong not to the dawn,
Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn
With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere,
While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Thou fun, of this great world both eye and foul,
Acknowledge him thy greater: found his praise
In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'ft,
And when high noon haft gain'd, and when thou fall'st.
Moon, that now meet'ft the orient fun, now fly'st
With the fix'd ftars, fix'd in their orb that flies;
And ye five other wand'ring fires that move
In mystic dance not without fong, refound
His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light.
Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth
Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run
Perpetual circle, multiform; and mix,
And nourish all things; let your ceafelefs change
Vary to our great Maker still new praise.
Ye mifts and exhalations that now rife
From hill or fteaming lake, dusky or gray,
Till the fun paint your fleecy fkirts with gold,
In honour to the world's great Author rise,
Whether to deck with clouds th' uncolour'd sky,
Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers,
Rifing or falling ftill advance his praise.
His praise, ye winds, that from four quarters blow,
Breathe foft or loud; and wave your tops, ye pines,
With every plant, in fign of worship wave.
Fountains, and ye, that warble, as ye flow,
Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise,
Join voices all ye living fouls; ye birds,
That finging up to heaven-gate ascend,
Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise.
Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk
The earth, and ftately tread, or lowly creep;
Witness if I be filent, morn or even,
To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade,
Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise.
Hail univerfal Lord, be bounteous ftill
To give us only good; and if the night
Have gather'd ought of evil, or conceal'd,
Difperfe it, as now light difpels the dark.