And shall not man the concert join, For whom this bright creation rose— For whom the fires of morning shine And eve’s still lamps, that woo repose?
2 And shall not he the chorus swell, Whose form the incarnate Godhead wore, Whose guilt, whose fears, whose triumph tell How deep the wounds his Saviour bore?
3 Long as yon glittering arch shall bend, Long as yon orbs in glory roll, Long as the streams of life descend To cheer with hope the fainting soul,
4 Thy praise shall fill each grateful voice, Shall bid the song of rapture sound; And heaven’s exulting sons rejoice To bear the full hosanna round.
48 L. M. Praise of God peculiarly due from man.
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 paean raise.
3 And shall my voice, great God, alone Be mute ’midst nature’s loud acclaim? No; let my heart with answering tone Breathe forth in praise thy holy name.
4 And nature’s debt is small to mine; Thou bad’st her being bounded be, But—matchless proof of love divine— Thou gav’st immortal life to me.
49 L. M. 6 lines God the fountain of being, etc.
Thou art, O God, the life and light Of all the wondrous world we see; Its glow by day, its smile by night, Are but reflections caught from thee; Where’er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine.
2 When day, with farewell beam, delays Among the opening clouds of even, And we can almost think we gaze, Through opening vistas, into heaven— Those hues that mark the sun’s decline, So soft, so radiant, Lord, are thine.
3 When night, with wings of starry gloom, O’ershadows all the earth and skies, Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume Is sparkling with unnumbered dyes— That sacred gloom, those fires divine, So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine.
4 When youthful Spring around us breathes, Thy Spirit warms her fragrant sigh; And every flower that Summer wreathes Is born beneath thy kindling eye; Where’er we turn, thy glories shine, And all things fair and bright are thine.
50 C. M. God seen in all his works.
I sing th’ almighty power of God, That made the mountains rise, That spread the flowing seas abroad, And built the lofty skies.
2 I sing the wisdom that ordained The sun to rule the day; The moon shines full at his command, And all the stars obey.
3 I sing the goodness of the Lord, That filled the earth with food; He formed the creatures with his word, And then pronounced them good.
4 Lord! how thy wonders are displayed, Where’er I turn my eye! If I survey the ground I tread, Or gaze upon the sky!
5 There’s not a plant or flower below But makes thy glories known; And clouds arise, and tempests blow, By order from thy throne.
6 Creatures that borrow life from thee Are subject to thy care; There’s not a place where we can flee But God is present there.
51 C. M. Bless the Lord, all his works. Psalm 103:22.
Praise ye the Lord, immortal choir! In heavenly hights above, With harp, and voice, and soul of fire, Burning with perfect love.
2 Shine to his glory, worlds of light! Ye million suns of space; Ye moon and glittering stars of night, Running your mystic race.
3 Shout to Jehovah, surging main! In deep eternal roar; Let wave to wave resound the strain, And shore reply to shore.
4 Storm, lightning, thunder, hail and snow, Wild winds that keep his word, With the old mountains far below, Unite to bless the Lord.
5 And round the wide world let it roll, Whilst man shall lead it on; Join, every ransomed human soul, In glorious unison.
52 C. M. God seen in his works.
There’s not a tint that paints the rose Or decks the lily fair, Or streaks the humblest flower that blows, But God has placed it there.
2 There’s not a star whose twinkling light Illumes the distant earth, And cheers the solemn gloom of night But goodness gave it birth.
3 There’s not a cloud whose dews distill Upon the parching clod, And clothe with verdure vale and hill, That is not sent by God.
4 There’s not a place in earth’s vast round, In ocean deep, or air, Where skill and wisdom are not found; For God is everywhere.
5 Around, beneath, below, above, Wherever space extends, There heaven displays its boundless love, And power with goodness blends.
53 C. M. Praise him in the firmament of his power. Psalm 150:1.
Begin my soul the lofty strain, In solemn accents sing A sacred hymn of grateful praise To heaven’s almighty King.