The spa­cious heav’ns de­clare
The glo­ry of our God,
The fir­ma­ment dis­plays
His han­di­work abroad;
Day unto day pro­claims His might,
And night His wis­dom tells to night.

Aloud they do not speak,
They ut­ter forth no word,
Nor in­to lang­uage break,
Their voice is ne­ver heard;
Yet through the world the truth they bear
And their Cre­at­or’s pow­er de­clare.

The clouds of hea­ven are spread,
A tent to hold the sun,
And like a bride­groom fair
Comes forth the migh­ty one,
Rejoicing in his strength and grace
To run his won­drous dai­ly race.

His dai­ly go­ing forth
Is from the end of hea­ven;
The fir­ma­ment to him
Is for his cir­cuit given;
His jour­ney reaches to its ends,
And ev­ery­where his heat ex­tends.