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,
Fair queen of silence, silver moon,
Whose gentle beams, and borrowed light,
Are softer rivals of the noon;
4 Arise, and to that sovereign Power
Waxing and waning honors pay,
Who bade thee rule the dusky hours,
And half supply the absent day!
5 Ye twinkling stars, who gild the skies,
When darkness has its curtain drawn,
Who keep your watch with wakeful eyes,
When business, cares, and day, are gone;
6 Proclaim the glories of your Lord,
Dispersed through all the heav’nly street,
Whose boundless treasures can afford
So rich a pavement for His feet.
7 Thou Heav’n of heav’ns, supremely bright,
Fair palace of the court divine,
Where, with inimitable light,
The Godhead condescends to shine.
8 Praise thou thy great Inhabitant,
Who scatters lovely beams of grace
On every angel, every saint,
Nor veils the luster of His face.
9 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!
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