I. Ye warblers of the vernal shade,
Whose artless music charms my ear,
Your lively songs, my heart upbraid,
My languid heart how insincere!
While all your little pow’rs collected, raise
A tribute to your great Creator’s praise.
II. Ye lovely offspring of the ground,
Flow’rs of a thousand beauteous dyes,
You spread your Maker’s glory round,
And breathe your odours to the skies:
Unsully’d, you display your lively bloom,
Unmingled, you present your sweet perfume.
III. Ye winds that waft the fragrant spring,
You, whisp’ring, spread his name abroad,
Or shake the air with sounding wing
And speak the awful pow’r of God:
[p.53] His will, with swift obedience, you perform,
Or in the gentle gale, or dreadful storm.
IV. Ye radiant orbs that guide the day,
Or deck the sable veil of night;
His wond’rous glory you display,
Whose hand imparts your useful light:
Your constant task, unweary’d, you pursue,
Nor deviate from the path your Maker drew.
V. My God, shall ev’ry creature join
In praises to thy glorious name,
And this ungrateful heart of mine
Refuse the universal theme?
Well may the stars and winds, the birds and flow’rs,
Reprove the heart that brings not all its pow’rs.
VI. Thy grace this languid heart can raise,
These dissipated pow’rs unite,
Can bid me pay my debt of praise
With love sincere, and true delight;
O let thy grace inspire my heart, my tongue!
Then shall I grateful join creation’s song.
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