1 Rise, rise, my soul, and leave the ground, Stretch all thy thoughts abroad, And rouse up every tuneful sound To praise th' eternal God.
2 Long ere the lofty skies were spread Jehovah fill'd his throne; Or Adam form'd, or angels made, The Maker liv'd alone.
3 His boundless years can ne'er decrease, But still maintain their prime; Eternity's his dwelling-place, And ever is his time.
4 While like a tide our minutes flow, The present and the past, He fills his own immortal now, And sees our ages waste.
5 The sea and sky must perish too, And vast destruction come! The creatures--look, how old they grow, And wait their fiery doom!
6 Well, let the sea shrink all away, And flame melt down the skies, My God shall live an endless day, When th' old creation dies.