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real sky, And spangled Heavens, a shining frame, Their great Original proclaim. The unwearied Sun from day to day Does his Creator's power display; And publishes, to every land, The work of an almighty hand. 2 Soon as the evening shades prevail, The Moon takes up the wondrous tale; And nightly, to the listening Earth, Repeats the story of her birth: Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets, in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole. 3 What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball; What though no real voice, nor sound Amidst their radiant orbs be found: In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice; For ever singing as they shine: 'The hand that made us is divine.' AN HYMN. 1 When all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys; Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise. 2 O how shall words with equal warmth The gratitude declare, That glows within my ravish'd heart! But thou canst read it there. 3 Thy providence my life sustain'd, And all my wants redress'd, When in the silent womb I lay, And hung upon the breast. 4 To all my weak complaints and cries Thy mercy lent an ear, Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt To form themselves in prayer. 5 Unnumber'd comforts to my soul Thy tender care bestow'd, Before my infant heart conceiv'd From whence these comforts flow'd. 6 When in the slippery paths of youth With heedless steps I ran, Thine arm unseen convey'd me safe, And led me up to man. 7 Through hidden dangers, toils, and death, It gently clear'd my way; And through the pleasing snares of vice, More to be fear'd than they. 8 When worn with sickness, oft hast thou With health renew'd my face; And when in sins and sorrows sunk, Reviv'd my soul with grace. 9 Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss Has made my cup run o'er, And in a kind and faithful friend Has doubled all my store. 10 Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ; Nor
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