My God, Thy bound­less love I praise;
How bright on high its glo­ries blaze;
How sweet­ly bloom be­low!
It streams from Thine eter­nal throne;
Thro’ Heav’n its joys for­ev­er run,
And all the earth o’er­flow.

’Tis love that paints the pur­ple morn,
And bids the clouds in air up­borne,
Their ge­ni­al drops dis­till;
In ev­ery ver­nal beam it glows,
And breathes in ev­ery gale that blows,
And glides in ev­ery rill.

It robes in cheer­ful green the ground,
And pours its flow­ery beau­ties round,
Whose sweets per­fume the gale;
Its boun­ties rich­ly spread the plain,
The blush­ing fruit, the gold­en grain,
And smile on ev­ery vale.

Thus in Thy word I see it shine
With grace and glo­ries all di­vine,
To earth­ly mor­tals giv’n;
While faith, bright che­rub, points the way,
To realms of ev­er­last­ing day,
And op­ens all her Heav’n.

Then let the love, that makes me blest,
With cheer­ful praise in­spire my breast,
And ar­dent gra­ti­tude;
And all my thoughts and pass­ions tend
To Thee, my Fa­ther and my friend,
My soul’s eter­nal good.