Attend, ye ministers of song,
And bless your ever-gracious Lord,
The praises of his name prolong
Upon the full-resounding chord.

In ceaseless blessing be he nam'd,
As by the fathers heretofore,
And in all tongues and times proclaim'd
From henceforth and for evermore.

All flesh his glorious MAKER hails,
Avow'd the GREATEST and the BEST,
From whence the sun the morn unveils
To his department in the WEST.

The Lord is high above the kings
Of all the scatter'd regions round,
The radiance of his glory springs,
And leaves the topmost heav'n aground

Whence can comparison be made,
The God above sublime to shew,
Which deigns his glory to degrade,
The kings in heav'n and earth to view?

He takes the simple from the dust,
As down he meekly kneels to bless,
And all the poor that put their trust
In him, he succours from distress.

That he may raise their low degree,
And give them with the princes place,
And let presumptuous rulers see
Their virtue rescu'd from disgrace.

He makes the barren woman big,
If she beseech the Lord for seed;
And blest beneath her vine and fig
The prattling innocents to feed.