To Thee, O God, glad songs we bring,
For evermore we crown Thee king;
Stretch forth Thine arm, extend Thy sway;
Break on the world Thy rising day.
The mighty train of starry hosts
In choral strains Thy glory boasts;
From sun to sun the echoes bound,
And distant anthems swell the sound.
The mountains to the valleys cry,
And rivers to the sea reply;
The winter ice, the summer dew—
All living things are singing, too.
Glad nature’s praise to Thee belongs,
We crown Thee in our earthly songs,
And by our lives we would record
Such praise as Heaven gives its Lord.
Glad songs! glad songs! ring out our joy;
Let holy themes our lips employ,
Till earth, redeemed, shall lift her voice,
And Heav’n shall echo back, rejoice.