Up to the Lord, that reigns on high,

And views the nations from afar,

Let everlasting praises fly,

And tell how large his bounties are.

[He that can shake the worlds he made,

Or with his word, or with his rod,

His goodness, how amazing great!

And what a condescending God!]

[God, that must stoop to view the skies,

And bow to see what angels do,

Down to our earth he casts his eyes,

And bends his footsteps downwards too.]

He overrules all mortal things,

And manages our mean affairs;

On humble souls the King of kings

Bestows his counsels and his cares.

Our sorrows and our tears we pour

Into the bosom of our God;

He hears us in the mournful hour,

And helps us bear the heavy load.

In vain might lofty princes try

Such condescension to perform;

For worms were never raised so high

Above their meanest fellow worm.

O could our thankful hearts devise

A tribute equal to thy grace,

To the third heav'n our songs should rise,

And teach the golden harps thy praise.