Ye bless’d inhabitants of heaven,
To God be all your praises given;
O praise him in the realms that lie
Above the reach of mortal eye.

Praise him, thou sun, that round the pole
With restless course art seen to roll;
Ye moon and stars, his praise repeat;
Praise him, he heav’ns, his awful seat.

Nor let the heav’ns his praise confine:
O, all ye earth, the chorus join;
Ye beasts, that range th’ uncultur’d soil,
Or patient lend to man your toil.

Praise him, each bird that wings the air,
Each reptile, nurtur’d by his care;
And every wind, and every storm,
That duteous his commands perform.

Ye youthful bands, and virgin choir,
Each lisping babe, and hoary fire,
Wake to his name your grateful songs;
To him alone all praise belongs.

His glory earth’s wide bounds o’erflows,
Nor highest heav’n its limit knows:
O come, your thankful voices raise,
And consecrate to him your praise.