1 Lord, thy pervading knowledge strikes
Through nature's inmost gloom:
And in thy circling arms I lay
A slumberer in the womb.

2 Thee will I honor, for I stand
A volume of thy skill,
Stupendous are thy works, and they
My contemplations fill.

3 Thine eye beheld me when the speck
Of entity began;
And o'er my form, in darkness fram'd
Thy rich embroid'ry ran.

4 Th' unfashion'd mass by thee was seen;
My structure in thy book
Was plann'd, before thy curious mould
The future embryo took.

5 How precious are the streaming joys
That from thy love descend!
Would I rehearse their numbers o'er,
Where would their numbers end?

6 Not ocean's countless sands exceed
The blessings of the skies;
With night's descending shades they fall,
With morning splendors rise.

7 "Thy awful glories round me shine,
"My flesh proclaims thy praise;
"Lord to thy works of nature join
"Thy miracles of grace."