1 The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heav’ns, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
Th’ unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his Creator’s power display;
And publishes to every land
The work of an Almighty Hand.

2 Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
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,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

3 What though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball;
What though no real voice nor sound,
Amidst their radiant orbs be found;
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."