1 Praise ye the Lord! 'Tis good to raise
Your hearts and voices in his praise;
His nature and his works invite
To make this duty our delight.

2 He formed the stars, those heavenly flames,
He counts their numbers, calls their names;
His wisdom’s vast and knows no bound,
A deep where all our thoughts are drowned.

3 Sing to the Lord! Extol him high
Who spreads his clouds along the sky;
There he prepares the fruitful rain,
Nor lets the drops descend in vain.

4 He makes the grass the hills adorn,
And clothes the smiling fields with corn;
The beasts with food his hands supply,
And the young ravens when they cry.

5 His saints are lovely in his sight;
He views his children with delight;
He sees their hope, he knows their fear,
He looks and loves his image here.