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There seems a voice in every gale,
A tongue in every opening flower,
Which tells, O Lord, the wondrous tale
Of Thy indulgence, love, and power.
The birds, that rise on soaring wing,
Appear to hymn their Maker’s praise,
And all the mingling sounds of spring
To Thee a general pćan raise.
And shall my voice, great God, alone
Be mute ’midst nature’s loud acclaim?
No; let my heart, with answering tone,
Breathe forth in praise thy holy Name.
And nature’s debt is small to mine,
Thou bad’st her being bounded be;
But —matchless proof of love divine —
Thou gave’st immortal life to me.
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marker 99
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LYRICS
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Meter:
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8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
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Writer(s):
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Trans/Adapted:
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Dates:
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Bible Refs:
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LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
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Hymn/Song Book
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Year
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Song #
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| 1851 | # 81 |
echo ' | ';
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Hymn Writer
