Begin, My Soul, th’Exalted Lay

Begin

my soul

th’ex­alt­ed lay

Let each en­rap­tured thought ob­ey

And praise th’Al­migh­ty’s name;

Lo! Heav’n and earth

and seas

and skies

In one me­lo­di­ous con­cert rise

To swell th’in­spir­ing theme!

Ye fields of light

ce­les­ti­al plains

Where gay trans­port­ing beau­ty reigns

Ye scenes di­vine­ly fair!

Your mak­er’s won­drous pow­er pro­claim

Tell how He formed your shin­ing frame

And breathed the flu­id air.

Ye an­gels

catch the thrill­ing sound!

While all th’ad­or­ing throngs around

His won­drous mer­cy sing;

Let ev­ery list­en­ing saint above

Wake all the tune­ful soul of love

And touch the sweet­est string.

Join

ye loud spheres

the vo­cal choir!

Thou dazz­ling orb of li­quid fire

The migh­ty chor­us aid;

Soon as grey ev­en­ing gilds the plain

Thou moon

pro­tract the melt­ing strain

And praise Him in the shade.

Thou

Heav’n of heav’ns

His vast abode

Ye clouds

pro­claim your mak­er God!

Ye thun­ders

speak His pow­er;

Lo! on the light­ning’s ra­pid wings

In tri­umph rides the King of kings

Th’as­ton­ished worlds ad­ore.

Ye deeps

with roar­ing bil­lows rise

To join the thun­der of the skies

Praise Him who bids you roll;

His praise in soft­er notes de­clare

Each whis­per­ing breeze of yield­ing air

And breathe it to the soul.

Whate’er this liv­ing world con­tains

That wings the air or treads the plains

United praise be­stow;

Ye ten­ants of the ocean wide

Proclaim Him through the migh­ty tide

And in the deeps be­low.

Let ev­ery ele­ment re­joice:

Ye tem­pests

raise your migh­ty voice

Praise Him who bid you roll!

His praise in soft­er notes de­clare

Each whis­per­ing breeze of yield­ing air

And breathe it to the soul.

To Him

ye grace­ful ce­dars

bow!

Ye tow­er­ing mount­ains

bend­ing low

Your great cre­at­or own!

Tell

when af­fright­ed na­ture shook

How Si­nai kin­dled at His look

And trem­bled at His frown.

Ye flocks that haunt the hum­ble vale

Ye in­sects flut­ter­ing on the gale

In mu­tu­al con­course rise!

Crop the gay rose’s ver­meil bloom

And waft its spoils

a sweet per­fume

In in­cense to the skies.

Wake

all ye soar­ing throngs

and sing

Ye cheer­ful warb­lers of the spring

Harmonious anthems rise;

To Him who shaped your finer mold

Who tipped your glit­ter­ing wings with gold

And tuned your voice to praise.

Let man

by nob­ler pas­sions swayed

The feel­ing heart

the judg­ing head

In heav’n­ly praise em­ploy;

Spread His tre­men­dous name around

Till Heav’n’s wide arch ring back the sound

The ge­ne­ral burst of joy.

Ye

whom the charms of gran­deur please

Nursed on the sil­ky lap of ease

Fall pros­trate at His throne!

Ye princ­es

rul­ers

all adore!

Praise Him

ye kings! who makes your pow­er

An im­age of His own.

Ye fair

by na­ture formed to move

O praise th’eter­nal source of love

With youth’s en­liv­en­ing fire!

Let age take up the tune­ful lay

Sigh His blest name—then soar away

And ask an an­gel’s lyre.