1 Praise to God, immortal praise,
For the love that crowns our days;
Bounteous source of every joy,
Let thy praise our tongues employ;
2 For the blessings of the field,
For the stores the gardens yield,
For the vine’s exalted juice,
For the gen’rous olive’s use;
3 Flocks that whiten all the plain,
Yellow sheaves of ripen’d grain.
Clouds that drop their fat’ning dews,
Suns that temp’rate warmth diffuse;
4 All that spring with bounteous hand
Scatters o’er the smiling land;
All that lib’ral autumn pours
From her rich o’erflowing stores;
5 Thanks to thee our God we owe;
Source from whence all blessings flow!
And for these our souls shall raise
Grateful vows and solemn praise.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Praise to God, immortal praise |
Meter: | P. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1835 |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. |