Ye that de­light to serve the Lord,
The hon­ors of His name re­cord,
His sac­red name for ev­er bless;
Where’er the circ­ling sun dis­plays
His ris­ing beams, or set­ting rays,
Let lands and seas His pow­er con­fess.

Not time, nor na­ture’s nar­row rounds,
Can give His vast do­min­ion bounds,
The heav’ns are far be­low His height:
Let no cre­at­ed great­ness dare
With our eter­nal God com­pare,
Armed with His un­cre­at­ed might.

He bows His glo­ri­ous head to view
What the bright hosts of an­gels do,
And bends His care to mor­tal things;
His so­ve­reign hand ex­alts the poor,
He takes the nee­dy from the door,
And makes them com­pa­ny for kings.

When child­less fa­mi­lies des­pair,
He sends the bless­ing of an heir,
To res­cue their ex­pir­ing name;
The mo­ther, with a thank­ful voice,
Proclaims His prais­es and her joys:
Let ev­ery age ad­vance His fame.