Lift up thy­self, my soul,
Above this world’s con­trol!
Spend and be spent in ho­ly hymns of praise.
Be armed with pure de­sire,
Burn with ce­les­ti­al fire;
Unto the King of kings our voice we raise;
To Him a crown we weave, and bring
A sac­ri­fice of words, a blood­less of­fer­ing.

Thee on the trou­bled deep,
Thee o’er the is­lands steep,
Thee through the migh­ty con­ti­nents of land,
Thee in the ci­ty’s throng,
Or mount­ain tops along,
Or when in ce­le­brat­ed plains I stand,
Thee, Thee, O bless­èd One, I sing,
Thee, Thee, O Fa­ther
Of the world, eter­nal King!

Thy praise I hymn by night,
Thy praise at morn­ing light,
Thy praise by day, Thy praise at ev­en­tide.
This know the hoa­ry stars,
And moon with sil­ver bars,
And chief­ly He that doth on high pre­side
O’er all the host of Heav’n, the sun
Who mea­sur­ing time for
Holy souls his course doth run.

O mind im­mut­able!
O light in­scrut­able!
Thine is the eye that guides the light­ning fire,
In Thee the ag­es live,
Thou dost their lim­its give,
Who can Thy prais­es reach, eter­nal Sire?
Thou art be­yond the dreams of men;
Beyond the reach of mind,
Or high­est an­gel’s ken.

O’er all Thy rule is spread,
The liv­ing and the dead;
To minds that be, the par­ent mind Thou art;
All Heav’n Thou dost con­trol,
Thou nour­ish­est the soul,
And dost to spi­rit en­er­gy im­part,
The spring Thou art whence all things flow;
And from eter­ni­ty the root
Whence all things grow.