Classic Poem

Hark , my soul, how every thing
Strives to serve our bounteous King;
Each a double tribute pays;
Sings its part, and then obeys.

Nature's sweet and chiefest quire
Him with cheerful notes admire;
Chanting every day their lauds,
While the grove their song applauds.

Though their voices lower be,
Streams have too their melody;
Night and day they warbling run,
Never pause, but still sing on.

All the flowers that gild the spring
Hither their still music bring;
If Heaven bless them, thankful they
Smell more sweet, and look more gay.

Only we can scarce afford
This short office to our Lord ;
We, — on whom His bounty flows,
All things gives, and nothing owes.

Wake, for shame, my sluggish heart,
Wake, and gladly sing thy part:
Learn of birds, and springs, and flowers,
How to use thy noble powers.

Call whole Nature to thy aid,
Since 'twas He whole Nature made;
Join in one eternal song,
Who to one G OD all belong.

Live for ever, glorious Lord ,
Live, by all Thy works adored;
One in Three, and Three in One,
Thrice we bow to Thee alone.