Sing to the Lord that built the skies,
The Lord that rear'd this stately frame;
Let half the nations sound his praise,
And lands unknown repeat his Name.

2 He form'd the seas, and form'd the hills,
Made every drop and every dust,
Nature and time with all their wheels,
And push'd them into motion first.

3 Now from his high imperial throne
He looks far down upon the spheres;
He bids the shining orbs roll on,
And round he turns our hasty years.

4 Thus shall this moving engine last
Till all his saints are gather'd in,
Then for the trumpet's dreadful blast
To shake it all to dust again!

5 Yet when the sound shall tear the skies,
And lightning burn the globe below,
Saints, you may lift your joyful eyes,
There's a new heaven and earth for you.

 Rise, rise, my soul, and leave the ground,
Stretch all thy thoughts abroad,
And rouse up every tuneful sound
To praise th' eternal God.

2 Long ere the lofty skies were spread
Jehovah fill'd his throne;
Or Adam form'd, or angels made,
The Maker liv'd alone.

3 His boundless years can ne'er decrease,
But still maintain their prime;
Eternity's his dwelling-place,
And ever is his time.

4 While like a tide our minutes flow,
The present and the past,
He fills his own immortal now,
And sees our ages waste.

5 The sea and sky must perish too,
And vast destruction come!
The creatures--look, how old they grow,
And wait their fiery doom!

6 Well, let the sea shrink all away,
And flame melt down the skies,
My God shall live an endless day,
When th' old creation dies.

 [Come, we that love the Lord,
And let our joys be known;
Join in a song with sweet accord,
And thus surround the throne.

2 The sorrows of the mind
Be banish'd from the place!
Religion never was design'd
To make our pleasures less.]

3 Let those refuse to sing
That never knew our God,
But favourites of the heavenly King
May speak their joys abroad.

4 [The God that rules on high,
And thunders when he please,
That rides upon the stormy sky
And manages the seas.]

5 This awful God is ours,
Our Father and our love,
He shall send down his heavenly powers
To carry us above.

6 There we shall see his face,
And never, never sin;
There from the rivers of his grace
Drink endless pleasures in.

7 Yes, and before we rise
To that immortal state,
The thoughts of such amazing bliss
Should constant joys create.

8 [The men of grace have found
Glory begun below,
Celestial fruits on earthly ground
From faith and hope may grow.]

9 The hill of Sion yields
A thousand sacred sweets,
Before we reach the heavenly fields,
Or walk the golden streets.

10 Then let our songs abound,
And every tear be dry;
We're marching thro' Immanuel's ground
To fairer worlds on high.