1 The spacious Firmament on high,
With all the wide, etherial Sky,
And spangled Heav’ns, a shining Frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
Th’ unwearied Sun, from Day to Day,
Does his Creator’s Power display;
And publishes to every Land
The Work of an Almighty Hand.

2 Soon as the Evening Shades prevail
The Moon takes up the wondrous Tale,
And, nightly to the listning Earth,
Repeats the Story of her Birth:
While all the Stars that round her burn
And all the Planets in their Turn
Confirm the Tidings as they roll,
And spread the Truth from Pole to Pole.

3 What tho' in solemn Silence all,
Move round the dark terrestrial Ball;
What tho' nor real Voice nor Sound,
Amidst their radiant Orbs be found;
In Reasons Ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious Voice,
For ever singing, as they shine,
The Hand that made us is divine.