1 LET one loud song of praise arise
To God, whose goodness ceaseless flows;
Who dwells enthroned above the skies,
And life and breath on all bestows
2 Let all of good this bosom fires,
To him, sole good, give praises due ;
Let all the truth himself inspires,
Unite to sing him only true.
3 In ardent adoration joined,
Obedient to thy holy will,
Let all our faculties combined,
Thy just commands, O God! fulfil.
4 O! may the solemn-breathing sound.
Like incense rise before thy throne,
Where thou, whose glory knows no bound,
Great Cause of all things, dwell'st alone.
The Glory of God displayed and celebrated.
1 AUTHOR of being! at thy word
When first arose this glorious frame,
Around were harps seraphic heard,
And morning stars their joy proclaim.
2 And when,--to swell thy mercies more,
Jesus, to bless our race was born,
Archangel voices went before,
And harbingered salvation's dawn.
3 There too where saints perfected dwell,
From sin and care and sorrow free,
In nearer presence blest, they swell
An endless pæan, Lord! to thee.
4 Then let thy feeble children here,
Join with the countless choirs above,
Who round thy throne of light appear,
To hymn thy praise and sing thy love.
Praise to God in Prosperity and Adversity. Hab. iii. 17, 18.
1 PRAISE to God, immortal praise,
For the love that crowns our days:
Bounteous source of every joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ:
2 For the blessings of the field,
For the stores the gardens yield;
For the vine's exalted juice,
For the generous olive's use:
3 Flocks that whiten all the plain,
Yellow sheaves of ripened grain,
Clouds, that drop their fattening dews
Suns, that temperate warmth diffuse ;
4 All that spring with bounteous hand
Scatters o'er the smiling land;
All that liberal autumn pours
From her rich o'erflowing stores;
5 These to thee, our God! we owe,
Source whence all our blessings flow!
And for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
6 Yet should rising whirlwinds tear
From its stem the ripening ear ;
Should the fig-tree's blasted shoot
Drop her green untimely fruit :
7 Should thine altered hand restrain
The early and the latter rain;
Blast each opening bud of joy,
And the rising year destroy:
8 Still to thee our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise;
And, when every blessing 's flown,
Love thee-for thyself alone.
Thy sovereign bounty is the spring,
From whence my blessings flow.
Thou ever good and kind!
A thousand reasons move,
A thousand obligations bind
My heart to grateful love.
On thee alone I live :
My GOD! thy benefits demand
More praise than life can give.
O what can I impart,
When all was thine before?
Thy love demands a thankful heart;
The gift, alas! how poor!
Shall I withhold thy due ?
And shall my passions rove?
Lord! make me to thy service true,
And fill me with thy love.
O let thy grace inspire
My soul with strength divine; Let all my powers to thee aspire, And all my days be thine.
Countless Obligations to pious Gratitude.
1 GREAT God! to thee my all I owe,
And shall my tongue be still?
Shall streams of constant mercy flow
Untinged with any ill?
2 Shall every day new favours bring,
And every night proclaim
My God, their bounteous source and spring, And yet unpraised his name?
3 Shall every moment prove his grace
And show his tender care,
And is my heart not found the place
Where warm affections are?
4 Shall each revolving day and hour,
Each season as it flies,
Evince thy ever-bounteous power,
And see new blessings rise;
5 And does my soul no rapture find,
No ardent thanks express,
No praises warm my callous mind,
Who can such love confess?
6 Then, O my God, one favor still
Add to thy boundless store,-
My soul with grateful rapture fill,
To praise thee and adore.
Thanks to God for Creation.
1 THOU power, by whose command I live! The tribute of my praise receive:
My being to thy love I owe,
And all the joys that from it flow.
2 Not many suns have formed the year,
And rolled their courses round this sphere,
Since thou my shapeless form surveyed,
Mid undistinguished matter laid.
3 Thy skill my native clay refined,
Its particles in order joined;
With symmetry composed the whole,
And stamped thine image on the soul;
4 A frame susceptible of joy,
Nor force nor time shall e'er destroy;
And which, though nature claim my breath,
Shall triumph o'er the sleep of death.
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