Hymn I.
[The glorious armies of the sky]
I
The glorious armies of the sky
To thee, O mighty king!
Triumphant anthems consecrate,
And hallelujahs sing.
II
But still their most exalted flights
Fall vastly short of thee;
How distant then must human praise
From thy perfections be!
III
Yet how, my God, shall I refrain,
When to my ravish'd sense
Each creature in its various ways
Displays thy excellence?
IV
The active lights that shine above,
In their eternal dance,
Reveal their skilful maker's praise
With silent elegance.
V
The blushes of the morn confess
That thou art much more fair:
When in the east its beams revive
To gild the fields of air;
VI
The fragrant, the refreshing breath
Of ev'ry flow'ry bloom,
In balmy whispers owns from thee
Its pleasing odours come.
VII
The singing birds, the warbling winds,
And waters murm'ring fall,
To praise the first almighty cause
With diff'rent voices call.
VIII
Thy num'rous works exalt thee thus,
And shall I silent be?
No, rather let me cease to breathe,
Than cease from praising thee.
