X. Ye fummer's heat, and winter's cold, By turns in long fucceffion roll'd, The drooping world to chear; Praise him, who gave the fun and moon, And guide the circling year. Ye frofts, that bind the watʼry plain, Pursue the heav'nly theme; Praise him, who fheds the driving snow, And stops the rapid stream. XII. Ye days and nights, that fwiftly born, Alternate glide away; Praise him, whose never-varying light, But present gives the day. Light, Darkness, XIII. from whofe rays all beauty fprings, whose wide-expanded wings Involve the dufky globe; Praife him, who, when the heav'ns he spread, And light his regal robe. XIV. Praife him, ye light'nings, as ye fly, Wing'd with his vengeance through the sky, And red with wrath divine; Praise him, ye clouds, that wand'ring stray, Surround his aweful fhrine. XV. Exalt, O earth! thy heav'nly King, Who bids the plants, that form the fpring, With annual verdure bloom; Whofe frequent drops of kindly rain, Prolific fwell the rip'ning grain, And bless thy fertile womb. XVI. Ye mountains, that ambitious rise, And heave your fummits to the skies, Revere his aweful nod Think how you once affrighted fled, When Jordan fought his fountain-head, And own'd th' approaching God. XVII. Ye XVII. Ye trees, that fill the rural scene, Ye flowers, that o'er th' enamel'd green In native beauty reign; O! praise the Ruler of the skies, Whofe hand the genial fap fupplies, And clothes the smiling plain. XVIII. Ye fecret fprings, ye gentle rills, Or fill the humble vale; Praise him, at whose almighty nod Praise him, ye floods, and feas profound, Aw'd by his voice, ye feas, fubfide, Ye floods, within your channels glide, And tremble and adore. XX. Ye whales, that stir the boiling deep, Or in its dark receffes fleep, Remote from human eye; Praise him, by whom ye all are fed, Ye birds, exalt your Maker's name, Wake with your fongs the rifing day, And fill the vocal grove. XXII. Praise him, ye beasts, that nightly roam Amid the folitary gloom, Th' expected prey to feize; Ye flaves of the laborious plough, Your ftubborn necks fubmiffive bow, And bend your weary'd knees. XXIII. Ye fons of men, his praise display, The wonders of his love. XXIV. Let XXIV. Let Levi's tribe the lay prolong, 'Till angels liften to the fong, And bend attentive down; Let wonder seize the heav'nly train, XXV. And you, your thankful voices join, Before his altars kneel; Where thron'd in majesty he dwells, XXVI. Ye fpirits of the just and good, O! let your fongs his praise display, And time fhall be no more. XXVII. Praise him, ye meek and humble train, Ye faints, whom his decrees ordain The boundlefs blifs to fhare; |