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| THE SPACIOUS firmament on high, | |
| With all the blue ethereal sky, | |
| And spangled heavens, a shining frame, | |
| Their great Original proclaim. | |
| The unwearied sun from day to day | 5 |
| Does his Creator’s power display, | |
| And publishes to every land | |
| The work of an almighty hand. | |
| |
| Soon as the evening shades prevail | |
| The moon takes up the wondrous tale, | 10 |
| And nightly to the listening earth | |
| Repeats the story of her birth; | |
| Whilst all the stars that round her burn, | |
| And all the planets in their turn, | |
| Confirm the tidings as they roll, | 15 |
| And spread the truth from pole to pole. | |
| |
| What though in solemn silence all | |
| Move round the dark terrestrial ball? | |
| What though no real voice nor sound | |
| Amid their radiant orbs be found? | 20 |
| In reason’s ear they all rejoice | |
| And utter forth a glorious voice, | |
| Forever singing as they shine, | |
| “The hand that made us is divine.” | |
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