ALL who delight to serve the Lord, The honours of His name record; Where’er the circling sun displays Its rising beams and setting rays: Let every land God’s power confess, His sacred name for ever bless.
Nor time, nor nature’s narrow rounds, Can give His vast dominion bounds; Let no created greatness dare With our eternal God compare; Armed with His uncreated might, The skies are far below His height.
He bows His gracious eye to view What His created beings do; His hand provides the sinner’s needs, The hungry soul He richly feeds: Bending His care to mortal things, He lifts us high as heirs and kings.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748‡