Heav'n declares its Maker's glory,
And the firmament His might;
Day to day the wondrous story
Echoes on, and night to night:
All is silence, yet Creation
Knows and hears that voiceless speech
Which, to every tribe and nation,
Doth their Maker's glory teach.

From his chamber bright in Heaven,
Lo the bridegroom of the earth
Gladness by his smile hath given,
And hath woke the morn to mirth:
Not less full of life and pleasure
Is God's truth, nor less complete:
'Tis more precious than all treasure,-
Than the honeycomb more sweet.

It rejoices, heals, and teaches,
Ever holy, just, and good:
To the inmost feeling reaches,
And leads up the heart to God:
Warned by that, thy servant turneth
To the path that leads to bliss,-
Yet who all his faults discerneth?
Cleanse me, if I err in this.

Let not pride be ruler in me,
But deliver, cleanse, forgive:
Thus corruption quench'd within me,
I shall be upright, and live.
Let my words and meditation,
Ever pleasing in Thy sight,
Meet with gracious acceptation,
My Redeemer, and my might!