The heav'ns above our heads declare
Thy glory, Lord, in letters fair;
With marks of thine almighty pow'r
Adorning each revolving hour.

The sun, when he begins his race,
The borders of thy works displays;
And, as his glories brighter shine,
More plainly shows thy skill divine.

Thy creatures' hearts with rapture bound,
While he with splendid speed goes round;
And daily, as thy bounteous hand
Hands blessings down on ev'ry land.

The moon, that from her azure throne
Every night diffuses light alone,
Thy separating skill proclaims
Where'er she sends her borrow'd beams.

The distant stars, that through the night
From far emit their twinkling light,
Expand our views of thy domain,
And tell how vast, how wide thy reign.