The earth's foundations He hath laid,
And scattered ancient night;

When heaven, and earth, and sea,
Proclaimed His awful majesty.

When the bright orb of day
First gleamed with ruddy light,
And yonder moon, with silver ray,
Marched up the vault of night;
And stars bedecked the skies,
That seemed creation's thousand eyes;

And earth's fair form was seen, With flowers and blossoms drest; And trees, and fields, and meadows green, Adorned her youthful breast,

Hung out in boundless space, Amid the ocean's cool embrace;

Glad was the angel throng
To see His might prevail;
And loud they sung a joyful song
This universe to hail,

While yet in youth it stood;

The Maker, too, pronounced it good.

But this fair world shall die,
The creature of a day;

In ashes and in ruins lie,

Its glory passed away :
As when before her birth,
Again shall be this mighty earth.

Soon shall the day be o'er
Of yonder brilliant sun;

And he shall set to rise no more,

His race of glory run;

And soon, alas! all soon

Shall fade the stars, and yon pale moon.

But ever fix'd, the throne

Of the Eternal One

Shall stand, when all creation's gone,

Unequalled and alone;

New worlds to make at will,

And His own wise designs fulfil.

John Hunt. 1853

N°T

XI

PSALM CXV

OT unto us, Almighty Lord,
But to Thyself the glory be !

Created by Thy awful word,
We only live to honor Thee.

Where is their God? the heathen cry,
And bow to senseless wood and stone;
Our God, we tell them, fills the sky,

And calls ten thousand worlds his own.

Vain gods! vain men! the Lord alone
Is Israel's worship, Israel's friend;
O fear His power, His goodness own,
And love Him, trust Him, to the end.

Who lean on Him, from strength to strength,
From light to light, shall onward move,
Till through the grave they pass at length,
To sing on high His saving love.

Henry Francis Lyte. 1834

H

XII

PSALM CXLVI

APPY the man, whose hopes rely

On Israel's God; He made the sky,
And earth and seas with all their train ;
His truth forever stands secure,
He saves the opprest, He feeds the poor;
And none shall find his promise vain.

The Lord hath eyes to give the blind;
The Lord supports the sinking mind;

He sends the laboring conscience peace;
He helps the stranger in distress,
The widow and the fatherless,

And grants the prisoner sweet release.

I'll praise Him while He lends me breath, And when my voice is lost in death

Praise shall employ my nobler powers: My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life and thought and being last,

Or immortality endures.

XIII

Isaac Watts. 1719

PSALM XIX

HE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,

And spangled heavens, a shining frame,

Their great Original proclaim.

The unwearied sun, from day to day,

Does his Creator's power display,

And publishes to every land

The work of an Almighty hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail,

The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;

Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings, as they roll,

And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What, though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball;
What, though no real voice or sound
Amidst their radiant orbs be found;
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
Forever singing, as they shine,

"The hand that made us is divine."

Joseph Addison. 1712

T

XIV

'HERE is a book, who runs may read,

Which heavenly truth imparts,

And all the lore its scholars need,

Pure eyes and Christian hearts.

The works of God, above, below,
Within us and around,

Are pages in that book, to show
How God Himself is found.

The glorious sky, embracing all,
Is like the Maker's love,

Wherewith encompassed, great and small
In peace and order move.

The moon above, the Church below,
A wondrous race they run;

But all their radiance, all their glow,
Each borrows of its sun.

The Saviour lends the light and heat
That crowns His holy hill;

The saints, like stars, around His seat
Perform their courses still.

The saints above are stars in Heaven;
What are the saints on earth?

Like trees they stand, whom God has given,
Our Eden's happy birth.

Faith is their fix'd unswerving root,

Hope their unfading flower ; Fair deeds of charity their fruit, The glory of their bower.

The dew of heaven is like Thy grace;
It steals in silence down;

But, where it lights, the favored place
By richest fruits is known.

One name, above all glorious names,
With its ten thousand tongues
The everlasting sea proclaims,
Echoing angelic songs.

The raging fire, the roaring wind,
Thy boundless power display:
But in the gentler breeze we find
Thy Spirit's viewless way.