t Hymn 2:71 [The Glories Of My Maker God]

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Title:     t Hymn 2:71 [The Glories Of My Maker God]
Author: Isaac Watts [More Titles by Watts]

Praise to God from all creatures.

The glories of my Maker God,
My joyful voice shall sing,
And call the nations to adore
Their Former and their King.

'Twas his right-hand that shap'd our clay,
And wrought this human frame,
But from his own immediate breath
Our nobler spirits came.

We bring our mortal powers to God,
And worship with our tongues:
We claim some kindred with the skies
And join th' angelic songs.

Let groveling beasts of every shape,
And fowls of every wing,
And rocks, and trees, and fires, and seas,
Their various tribute bring.

Ye planets, to his honour shine,
And wheels of nature roll,
Praise him in your unwearied course
Around the steady pole.

The brightness of our Maker's Name
The wide creation fills,
And his unbounded grandeur flies
Beyond the heavenly hills.

[The end]
Isaac Watts's poem: Hymn 2:71 [The Glories Of My Maker God]

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