1 GREAT God! at whose all-powerful call
At first arose this beauteous frame,-
By thee the seasons change, and all
The changing seasons speak thy name.
2 Thy bounty bids the infant year
From winter storms recovered rise;
When thousand grateful scenes appear,
Fresh opening to our wondering eyes.
3 O how delightful 'tis to see
The earth in vernal beauty drest!
While in each herb, and flower, and tree,
Thy blooming glories shine confest!
4 Aloft, full beaming, reigns the sun,
And light and genial heat conveys;
And, while he leads the seasons on,
From thee derives his quickening rays.
5 Around us, in the teeming field,
Stands the rich grain, or purpled vine:
At thy command they rise, to yield
The strengthening bread, or cheering wine.
6 Indulgent God! from every part
Thy plenteous blessings largely flow;
We see we taste-let every heart
With grateful love and duty glow.
The Seasons of the Year. Ps. 147.
1 With songs and honors sounding loud,
Address the Lord on high;
Over the heavens he spreads his cloud,
And waters veil the sky.
2 He sends his showers of blessings down To cheer the plains below;
He makes the grass the mountains crown,
And corn in valleys grow.
3 His steady counsels change the face
Of the declining year;
He bids the sun cut short his race,
And wintry days appear.
4 His hoary frost, his fleecy snow
Descend and clothe the ground;
The liquid streams forbear to flow,
In icy fetters bound.
5 He sends his word, and melts the snow,
The fields no longer mourn;
He calls the warmer gales to blow,
And bids the spring return.
6 The changing wind, the flying cloud,
Obey his mighty word:
With songs and honors sounding loud,
Praise ye the sovereign Lord.
1 ETERNAL Source of every joy!
Well may thy praise our lips employ,
While in thy temple we appear,
To hail thee Sovereign of the year.
2 Wide as the wheels of nature roll,
Thy hand supports and guides the whole;
By thee the sun is taught to rise,
And darkness when to veil the skies.
3 The flowery spring, at thy command,
Perfumes the air and paints the land;
The summer suns with vigor shine,
To raise the corn and cheer the vine.
4 Thy hand, in autumn, richly pours Through all our coasts redundant stores; And winters, softened by thy care,
No more the face of horror wear.
5 Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days,
Demand successive songs of praise;
And be the grateful homage paid,
With morning light and evening shade.
6 And O may our harmonious tongues
In worlds above pursue the songs,
And in those brighter courts adore,
Where days and years revolve no more.
God's Goodness crowns the Year.
1 THE rising morn, the closing day
Repeat thy praise with grateful voice;
Both in their turns thy power display,
And laden with thy gifts rejoice.
2 Earth's wide-extended, varying scenes,
All smiling round, thy bounty show;
From seas or clouds, full magazines,
Thy rich diffusive blessings flow.
3 Now carth receives the precious seed
Which thy indulgent hand prepares;
And nourishes the future bread,
And answers all the sower's cares.
4 Thy sweet refreshing showers attend,
And through the ridges gently flow,
Soft on the springing corn descend,
And thy kind blessing makes it grow.
5 Thy goodness crowns the circling year;
Thy paths drop fatness all around;
E'en barren wilds thy praise declare,
And echoing hills return the sound.
6 Here, spreading flocks adorn the plain;
There, plenty every charm displays;
Thy bounty clothes each lovely scene,
And joyful nature shouts thy praise.
1 'Tis by thy strength the mountains stand,
God of eternal power!
The sea grows calm at thy command;
And tempests cease to roar.
2 Thy morning light and evening shade
Successive comforts bring;
Thy plenteous fruits make harvest glad,
Thy flowers adorn the spring.
3 Seasons and times, and moons and hours,
Heaven, earth and air are thine;
When clouds distil in fruitful showers,
The author is divine.
4 Those wandering cisterns in the sky,
Borne by the winds around,
With watery treasures well supply
The furrows of the ground.
5 The thirsty ridges drink their fill,
And ranks of corn appear;
Thy ways abound with blessings still,
Thy goodness crowns the year.
1 REMARK, my soul, the narrow bounds Of the revolving year ;
How swift the weeks complete their rounds! How short the months appear'
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