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Monday Lauds.
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83

Monday Lauds.

Hymn VI.

[Hark, my soul, how every thing]

Hark, my soul, how every thing
Strives to serve our bounteous King:
Each a double tribute pays;
Sings it part, and then obeys.
Nature's chief and sweetest Quire
Him with cheerful notes admire:
Chanting every day their Lauds;
While the grove their song applauds.
Though their voices lower be,
Streams have too their melody:
Night and day they warbling run;
Never pause, but stil sing on.
All the flow'rs that guild the spring,
Hither their still-musick bring:
If Heav'n bless them, thankful they
Smell more sweet, and look more gay.
Only we can scarce afford
This short Office to our Lord:
We, on whom his bounty flows;
All things gives, and nothing ows.

84

Wake for shame my sluggish hart;
Wake, and gladly sing thy part:
Learn of birds, and springs, and flow'rs,
How to use thy nobler pow'rs.
Call whole nature to thy aid;
Since 'twas He whole nature made:
Join in one eternal song,
Who to one God all belong.
Live for ever, glorious Lord!
Live by all thy works ador'd:
One in Three, and Three in One,
Thrice we bow to Thee alone.
Amen.