Fairest of All the Lights Above

Fairest of all the lights above

Thou sun

whose beams ad­orn the spheres

And with un­wea­ried swift­ness move

To form the cir­cles of our years;

Praise the Cre­at­or of the skies

That dressed thine orb in gold­en rays:

Or may the sun for­get to rise

If he for­get his mak­er’s praise!

Thou reign­ing beau­ty of the night

Fair queen of si­lence

sil­ver moon

Whose gen­tle beams

and bor­rowed light

Are soft­er ri­vals of the noon;

Arise

and to that sov­er­eign Pow­er

Waxing and wan­ing hon­ors pay

Who bade thee rule the dus­ky hours

And half sup­ply the ab­sent day!

Ye twink­ling stars

who gild the skies

When dark­ness has its cur­tain drawn

Who keep your watch with wake­ful eyes

When bu­si­ness

cares

and day

are gone;

Proclaim the glo­ries of your Lord

Dispersed through all the heav’n­ly street

Whose bound­less trea­sures can af­ford

So rich a pave­ment for His feet.

Thou Heav’n of heav’ns

su­preme­ly bright

Fair pal­ace of the court di­vine

Where

with in­im­it­able light

The God­head con­des­cends to shine.

Praise thou thy great In­ha­bi­tant

Who scat­ters love­ly beams of grace

On ev­ery an­gel

ev­ery saint

Nor veils the lus­ter of His face.

O God of glo­ry

God of love

Thou art the sun that makes our days;

With all Thy shin­ing works ab­ove

Let earth and dust at­tempt Thy praise!