Ye princes, that in night excel,
Your grateful sacrifice prepare;
God’s glorious actions loudly tell,
His wond’rous pow’r to all declare.

To his great name fresh altars raise;
Devoutly due respect afford;
Him in his holy temple praise,
Where he’s with solemn state ador’d.

‘Tis he that with amazing noise
The wat’ry clouds in sunder breaks:
The ocean trembles at his voice,
When he from heav’n in thunder speaks.

How full of pow’r his voice appears!
With what majestick terror crown’d!
Which from the roots tall cedars tears,
And strews their scatter’d branches round.

They, and the hills on which they grow,
Are sometimes hurried far away;
And leap like hinds that bounding go,
Or unicorns in youthful play.

When God in thunder loudly speaks,
And scatter’d flames of lightning sends,
The forest nods, the desart quakes,
And stubborn Kadesh lowly bends.

He makes the hinds to cast their young,
And lays the beasts dark coverts bare;
While those that to his courts belong,
Securely sing his praises there.

The Lord sits sov’reign on the flood,
The thund’rer reigns for ever king;
But makes his church his blest abode,
Where we his awful glories sing.

In gentler language, there the Lord
The council of his grace imparts;
Amidst the raging storm, his word
Speaks peace and courage to our hearts.