1 BLESS, O my soul! the living God;
Call home thy thoughts that rove abroad:
Let all the powers within me join
In work and worship so divine.
2 Bless, O my soul! the God of grace;
His favors claim thy highest praise:
Why should the wonders he hath wrought
Be lost in silence, and forgot?
3 Our youth decayed, his power repairs;
His mercy crowns our growing years;
He satisfies our mouth with good,
And fills our hopes with heavenly food.
4 He sees the oppressor and the oppressed,
And often gives the sufferers rest;
But will his justice more display
In the last great rewarding day.
2 Giver of sunshine and of rain; Ripener of fruits on hill and plain; Fountain of light, that, rayed afar, Fills the vast urns of sun and star;
1 TRIUMPHANT, Lord, thy goodness reigns, Through all the wide celestial plains; And its full streams redundant flow Down to the abodes of men below
2 Oh give to every human heart
To taste and feel how good thou art; With grateful love, and reverent fear, To know how blest thy children are!
Providential Bounties improved.
DODDRIDGE. 2 To thee perpetual thanks we owe For all our comforts here below: Our daily bread thy bounty gives, And every rising want relieves.
1 FATHER of lights, we sing thy name,
Who kindlest up the lamp of day:
Wide as he spreads his golden flame,
His beams thy power and love display.
2 Fountain of good, from thee proceed
The copious drops of genial rain,
Which, o'er the hill and through the mead,
Revive the grass and swell the grain.
3 Oh let not our forgetful hearts
O'erlook the tokens of thy care;
But what thy liberal hand imparts
Still own in praise, still ask in prayer!
4 So shall our suns more grateful shine,
And showers in sweeter drops shall fall,
When all our hearts and lives are thine,
And thou, O God! enjoyed in all.
183. The Heavens declare the Glory of God.
1 THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
The unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator's power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an almighty hand.
2 Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;
While all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets, in their turn,
Confirm the tidings, as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
3 What though in solemn silence all Move round this dark terrestrial ball!
What though no real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found!. In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice; For ever singing, as they shine, "The hand that made us is divine." 184.
God in Creation. W. B. O. PEABODY
1 GOD of the rolling orbs above,
Thy name is written clearly bright
In the warm day's unvarying blaze,
Or evening's golden shower of light:
For every fire that fronts the sun,
And every spark that walks alone
Around the utmost verge of heaven,
Were kindled at thy burning throne.
2 God of the world, the hour must come,
And nature's self to dust return;
Her crumbling altars must decay;
Her incense-fires shall cease to burn.
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