Thou art, O Lord, the boundless source,

Whence all our thousand blessings flow;

And nature, through her endless course,

Proclaims thy love to all below;

While all above join in the strain

Of ceaseless praises to thy name.

2 The sun on golden chariot rides,

And sends to earth his rays of light;

While darkness from his brightness hides,

And vanishes from human sight;

This sunlight, when it comes to earth,

Declares thy goodness gave it birth.

3 The moon and stars, that rule at night,

And smile upon this world of wrong,

Bear on each trembling chord of light

The notes of this sweet, sacred song;

“Thou, Lord, didst make all things that move;

All are the creatures of thy love.”

4 Then help my poor, unworthy heart

To join aloud in nature’s praise;

And may my song, in every part,

Proclaim the wonders of thy ways;

And when I reach the heavenly plains,

I’ll sing thy love in nobler strains.