Thou art, O God, the life and light
Of all this won­drous world we see;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but re­flect­ions caught from Thee;
Where’er we turn, Thy glo­ries shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine.

When day, with fare­well beam, de­lays
Among the op­en­ing clouds of even,
And we can al­most think we gaze
Through gold­en vis­tas in­to Hea­ven,
Those hues, that make the sun’s d­ecline
So soft, so ra­di­ant, Lord, are Thine.

When night, with wings of starry gloom,
O’ershadows all the earth and skies,
Like some dark beau­te­ous bird whose plume
Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes—
That sac­red gloom, those fires di­vine,
So grand, so count­less, Lord, are Thine.

When youthful spring around us breathes,
Thy Spir­it warms her frag­rant sigh,
And ev­ery flow­er the sum­mer wreathes
Is born be­neath that kind­ling eye—
Where’er we turn, Thy glo­ries shine,
And all things fair and bright are Thine.