Hark, my soul! how every thing
Strives to serve our bounteous King:
Each a double tribute pays;
Sings its part, and then obeys.
Nature’s chief and sweetest choir
Him with cheerful notes admire;
Chanting every day their lauds,[80]
While the grove their song applauds.
Though their voices lower be,
Streams have too their melody;
Night and day their warbling run:
Never pause, but still sing on.
All the flowers that gild the spring,
Hither their still music bring:
If Heaven 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 owes.
Wake! for shame my sluggish heart;
Wake! and gladly sing thy part:
Learn of birds, and springs, and flowers,
How to use thy nobler powers.
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 adored:
One in Three, and Three in One,
Thrice we bow to Thee alone.