1 The heavens declare his glory,
Their Maker's skill the skies;
Each day repeats the story,
And night to night replies,
Their silent proclamation
Through the earth is heard;
The record of creation,
The page of nature's word.
2 So pure, so soul-restoring,
Is truth's diviner ray;
A brighter radiance pouring
Than all the pomp of day:
The wanderer surely guiding,
It makes the simple wise;
And, evermore abiding,
Unfailing joy supplies.
3 Thy word is richer treasure
Than lurks within the mine;
And daintiest fare less pleasure
Yields than this food divine.
How wise each kind monition!
Led by thy counsels, Lord,
How safe the saints' condition,
How great is their reward!