Hark, my soul, how everything
Strives to serve our bounteous King:
Each a double tribute pays,
Sings its part, and then obeys.
Nature's chief and sweetest quire
Him with cheerful notes admire;
Chanting every day their lauds,
While the grove their song applauds.
Though their voices lower be,
Streams have too their melody;
Night and day they 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.
