Say then, ye worms of earth, to whom
Will ye your glo­ri­ous God com­pare?
Vainly thro’ all His works ye roam,
And find Je­ho­vah’s like­ness there.

The vile ido­la­ter be­lies
His im­age with a gold­en shrine,
To coun­ter­feit the God­head tries;
And stocks and stones be­come di­vine.

Man his own de­ity re­veres
By self de­light, and self es­teem,
Whate’er the sin­ner hopes, or fears
Desires, or loves, is God to him.

But have ye not His be­ing known,
And clear­ly seen by na­ture’s light?
Have not the an­cient fa­thers shown,
And you con­fessed the In­fi­nite?

The hea­vens His glo­ri­ous pow­er pro­claim,
Th’in­vi­si­ble on earth is showed;
Nature is writ­ten with His name,
And all things speak their build­er God.

Creation to His law sub­mits,
His rule He ov­er all main­tains,
High on the globe of Hea­ven He sits,
And un­dis­turbed for ev­er reigns.

Th’in­ha­bi­tants of earth from thence,
As grass­hop­pers His eye be­holds;
His hand, and pow­er, and pro­vi­dence
The cur­tain of the hea­vens un­folds.

’Tis He who stretched them out, ’tis He
Who still the wide pa­vil­ion spreads,
That blue ethe­re­al ca­no­py,
And draws it o’er His crea­tures’ heads.

Princes and kings that dare with­stand
Their un­con­trolled Cre­at­or’s sway,
Shall sink be­hind His migh­ty hand,
And fall, and fade, and die away.

Planted awhile, or sown be­low,
Their stock ac­cursed shall ne’er take root;
The Lord up­on their pride shall blow,
Wither the flow­er, and blast the fruit.

Say then, ye ab­ject worms, to whom
Will ye your glo­ri­ous God com­pare?
Who shall His ho­li­ness pre­sume
To match, or who His pow­er shall dare?

Lift up your eyes to things on high,
Nor fix on earth your gro­vel­ing thought;
Who built yon az­ure vault­ed sky?
Who spoke those beau­te­ous orbs from naught?

God only wise, and great, and strong,
Made them to run their hea­ven­ly race;
Knowledge and might to God be­long,
Honor, and ma­jes­ty and praise.

Their ra­di­ant hosts He mar­shals right,
Their na­ture, names and num­ber knows;
He bids them in their cours­es fight,
And blast their great Cre­at­or’s foes.

They hear, and each His will per­forms,
And lo! to man they ev­er call,
Lift up your eyes, ye ab­ject worms,
Adore the glo­ri­ous Cause of All!