18 L. M. WATTS. Sun, Moon, and Stars, praise ye the Lord. 1 FAIREST of all the lights above, Thou sun, whose beams adorn the spheres, And with unwearied swiftness move To form the circles of our years, 2 Praise the Creator of the skies, That dressed thine orb in golden rays; Or may the sun forget to rise, If he forget his Maker's praise. 3 Thou reigning beauty of the night, 4 Arise, and to that sovereign Power 5 Ye twinkling stars, who gild the skies 6 Proclaim the glories of your Lord, Dispersed through all the heavenly street, Whose boundless treasures can afford So rich a pavement for his feet. 7 O God of glory, God of love! Thou art the sun that makes our days; With all thy shining works above, Let earth and dust attempt thy praise. 19 C. M. WATTS. A General Song of Praise. Ps. 86. 1 AMONG the princes, earthly gods, 2 The nations thou hast made shall bring 3 Lord, I would walk with holy feet; 20 C. M. WATTS. A Song of Praise. Ps. 150. 1 IN God's own house pronounce his praise; His grace he there reveals; To heaven your joy and wonder raise, 2 Let all your sacred passions move, 20 21 L. M. Ps. 98. J. Q. ADAMS. 1 SING to Jehovah a new song, His hand the victory hath won: Break forth in joy, exult, and sing; Shout, earth, and all therein that dwell; The world with equity to sway, And blessings shed o'er all our race. 1 TO God, the only wise, Our Savior and our King, Let all the saints below the skies WATTS. 2 "Tis his almighty love, His counsel and his care, 3 He will present our souls, 4 Then all the chosen seed Shall meet around the throne, 5 To our Redeemer God Wisdom and power belongs, Praise to God from all Creatures. 1 THE glories of my Maker, God, My joyful voice shall sing, And call the nations to adore Their Former and their King. WATTS. 2 'Twas his right hand that shaped our clay, 3 We bring our mortal powers to God, 4 Ye planets, to his honor shine, Praise him in your unwearied course 5 The brightness of our Maker's name 1 ALMIGHTY Maker, God! 2 Nature, in every dress, Her humble homage pays, WATTS. And finds a thousand ways to express 3 In native white and red The rose and lily stand, And, free from pride, their beauties spread, 4 The lark mounts up the sky And bears her Maker's praise on high 5 My soul would rise and sing To her Creator too; Fain would my tongue adore my King, 44 |