The Heavens Declare Thy Glory (Wordsworth)

The heav’ns de­clare Thy glo­ry

Lord

Thy love is writ­ten in Thy Word;

And we be­hold Thy bless­èd face

In works of pow­er

and words of grace;

We see Thee

Lord

when­e’er we look

In na­ture

and in Scrip­ture’s book.

Thy own pro­phet­ic Word of old

Thy fu­ture birth­place had fore­told;

That Word’s ful­fill­ment now is grav’n

In spangl­ed pag­es in the heav’ns;

The star pro­claims of Da­vid’s stem

The King new­born at Beth­le­hem.

The Gen­tile sag­es from afar

Traversing paths lit by a star

To Ju­dah come; the heav’n­ly ray

Of pro­phecy then points the way;

They see the star again ap­pear;

How great their joy! for Thou art here!

Not stag­gered by Thy low es­tate—

To sense how low

to faith

how great!

Myrrh

frank­in­cense

and gold they bring

To Thee as man

as Lord

and King;

To Thee they op­en all their store

And in the Child their God ad­ore.

Lord

make us keen of eye to heed

All lights

by which Thou wouldst us lead;

Help us to toil o’er plain and hill

In glad obe­di­ence to Thy will;

To see by faith and hum­bly fall

And give to Thee

who giv­est all.

Thou first to Gen­tiles wast dis­played

An in­fant in a cra­dle laid;

But all shall see Thee on Thy Throne

And Thee their judge and king shall own;

All kings be­fore Thee shall fall low

And ev­ery knee to Je­sus bow.

Lord

may the isles Thy law re­ceive

And they

who know Thee not

be­lieve;

Arise

and on the na­tions shine;

Thy preach­ers fill with grace di­vine;

That all the world at length may see

The light of Thine epi­pha­ny.