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390

BENEDICITE—

O all ye Works of God bless ye, &c.

I

Ye works of God on him alone,
(In earth his footstool, heav'n his throne)
Be all your praise bestow'd;
Whose hand the beauteous fabrick made,
Whose eye the finish'd world survey'd,
And saw that all was good.

II

Ye angels, who with loud acclaim
Admiring view'd the new born frame,
And hail'd th'eternal king,
Again proclaim your maker's praise,
Again your thankful voices raise,
And touch the tuneful string.

III

Praise him ye bright etherial plains,
Where in full majesty he deigns
To fix his awful throne;
Ye waters, that above them roll
From orb to orb, from pole to pole,
Oh! make his praises known.

IV

Thrones, dominations, virtues, powers,
Oh! join your joyful songs with ours,
With us your voices raise;
From age to age extend the lay,
To heav'ns eternal monarch pay
Hymns of eternal praise.

V

Cælestial orb, whose pow'rful ray
Opes the glad eye-lids of the day,
Whose influence all things own,
Praise him whose courts effulgent shine
With light as far excelling thine,
As thine the paler moon.

VI

Ye glitt'ring planets of the sky,
Whose beams the absent sun supply,
With him the song pursue;
And let himself submissive own,
He borrows from a brighter sun
The light he lends to you.

VII

Ye show'rs and dews, whose moisture shed
Calls into life the op'ning seed,
To him your praises yield;
Whose influence makes the genial birth,
Drops fatness on the pregnant earth,
And crowns the laughing field.

VIII

Ye winds that oft tempestuous sweep
The ruffled surface of the deep,
With us confess your God:
See thro' the heav'ns the king of kings,
Up-born on your extended wings,
Comes flying all abroad.

IX

Ye floods of fire where e're ye flow,
With just submission humbly bow,
To his superior pow'r,
Who stops the tempest on its way,
Or bids the flaming deluge stray,
And gives it strength to roar.

X

Ye summer's heat, and winter's cold,
By turns in long succession roll'd,
The drooping world to chear;
Praise him who gave the sun and moon,
To lead the various seasons on,
And guide the circling year.

XI

Ye frosts that bind the wat'ry plain,
Ye silent show'rs of fleecy rain,
Peruse the heavenly theme;
Praise him who sheds the driving snow,
Forbids the harden'd wave to flow,
And stops the rapid stream.

XII

Ye days and nights that swiftly born
From morn to eve, from eve to morn,
Alternate glide away;
Praise him whose never varying light
Absent adds horror to the night,
But present gives the Day.
391

XIII

Light, from whose rays all beauty springs,
Darkness, whose wide extended wings
Involve the dusky globe;
Praise him who when the heav'ns he spread
Darkness his thick pavilion made,
And light his regal robe.

XIV

Praise him ye lightnings as ye fly
Wing'd with hot vengeance thro' the sky,
And red with wrath divine,
Praise him ye clouds, that wand'ring stray,
Or, fix'd by him in close array,
Surround his awful shrine.

XV

Exalt O earth thy heavenly king,
Who bids the plants, that from the spring
Renew their annual bloom;
Whose frequent drops of kindly rain
Prolifick swell the rip'ning grain,
And bless thy fertile womb.

XVI

Ye mountains that ambitious rise,
And lift your summits to the skies,
Revere his awful nod;
Think how ye once affrighted fled,
While Jordan sought his fountain head,
And own'd th'approaching God!

XVII

Ye trees that fills the rural scene,
Ye flow'rs that o'er th'enamell'd green,
In native beauty reign,
Oh! praise the ruler of the skies,
Whose hand the genial sap supplies,
And cloathes the thankful plain.

XVIII

Ye secret springs, and gentle rills
That murm'ring rise among the Hills,
Or fill the humbler vale,
Praise him at whose almighty nod
The rugged rock dissolving flow'd,
And form'd a springing well.

XIX

Praise him ye floods, and seas profound,
Whose waves the spacious earth surround,
And roll from shore to shore;
Aw'd by his voice, ye seas subside,
Ye floods within your channels glide,
And tremble and adore.

XX

Ye whales that stir the boiling deep,
Or in its dark recesses sleep
Remote from human eye;
Praise him by whom ye all are fed,
Praise him without whose heav'nly aid
Ye sicken, faint, and die.

XXI

Ye birds exalt your maker's name:
Begin, and with th'important theme
Your artless lays improve,
Wake with your songs the rising day,
Let musick sound from ev'ry spray,
And fill the vocal grove

XXII

Praise him ye beasts that nightly roam
Amid' the solitary gloom,
Th'expected prey to seize;
Ye slaves of the laborious plough,
Your stubborn necks submissive bow
And bend your wearied knees.

XXIII

Ye sons of men, his praise display,
Who stamp'd his image on your clay,
And gave it pow'r to move;
Ye that on Judah's confines dwell,
From age to age successive tell
The wonders of his love.

XXIV

Let Levi's tribe the lay prolong,
Till angels listen to the song,
And bend attentive down;
Let wonder seize the heav'nly train,
Pleas'd while they hear a mortal strain,
So sweet, so like their own.
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XXV

And ye your thankful voices join,
That oft have bow'd before his shrine,
On Sion's sacred hill;
Where erst th'effulgent glory stood,
And utter'd from the mystick cloud,
The dictates of his will.

XXVI

Ye Spirits of the just and good,
That eager for the blest abode,
To heav'nly mansions soar;
Oh! let your songs his praise display,
Till heav'n itself shall melt away,
And time shall be no more

XXVII

Praise him, ye meek and humble train,
Ye saints, whom his decrees ordain
The boundless bliss to share;
Oh! praise him till you take your way
To regions of eternal day,
And reign for ever there.

XXVIII

Let us who now impassive stand,
Plac'd by the tyrant's stern command
Amid' the fiery blaze;
While thus we triumph in the flame,
Rise, and our maker's love proclaim
In hymns of endless praise.
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