4 While all his wondrous works,
Thro’ his vast kingdoms shew
Their Maker’s glory, thou, my soul,
Shalt sing his graces too.

Psalm 104. 
The glory of God in creation and providence.

1 My soul, thy great Creator praise;
When cloth’d in his celestial rays
He in full Majesty appears,
And, like a robe, his glory wears.

Note, This psalm may be sung to the tune of the old 112th or 127th
Psalm, by adding the two following lines to every stanza, viz.

Great is the Lord; what tongue can frame
An equal honour to his Name?

Otherwise it must be sung as the 100th psalm.

2 The heavens are for his curtains spread,
Th’ unfathom’d deep he makes his bed;
Clouds are his chariot, when he flies
On winged storms across the skies.

3 Angels, whom his own breath inspires, His ministers are flaming fires; And swift as thought their armies move To bear his vengeance, or his love.

4 The world’s foundations by his hand
Are pois’d, and shall for ever stand;
He binds the ocean in his chain,
Lest it should drown the earth again.

5 When earth was cover’d with the flood,
Which high above the mountains stood,
He thunder’d, and the ocean fled,
Confin’d to its appointed bed.

6 The swelling billows know their bound, And in their channels walk their round; Yet thence convey’d by secret veins, They spring on hills, and drench the plains.

7 He bids the crystal fountains flow, And cheer the vallies as they go; Tame heifers there their thirst allay, And for the stream wild asses bray.

8 From pleasant trees which shade the brink The lark and linnet light to drink; Their songs the lark and linnet raise; And chide our silence in his praise.

Pause I.

9 God from his cloudy cistern, pours On the parch’d earth enriching showers; The grove, the garden, and the field A thousand joyful blessings yield.

10 He makes the grassy food arise,
And gives the cattle large supplies;
With herbs for man of various power,
To nourish nature, or to cure.

11 What noble fruit the vines produce!  The olive yields a shining juice; Our hearts are cheer’d with gen’rous wine, With inward joy our faces shine.

12 O bless his Name ye Britons, fed With nature’s chief supporter, bread; While bread your vital strength imparts, Serve him with vigour in your hearts.

Pause II.

13 Behold the stately cedar stands,
Rais’d in the forest by his hands: 
Birds to the boughs for shelter fly
And build their nests secure on high.

14 To craggy hills ascends the goat; And at the airy mountain’s foot The feebler creatures make their cell; He gives them wisdom where to dwell.

15 He sets the sun his circling race, Appoints the moon to change her face; And when thick darkness veils the day, Calls out wild beasts to hunt their prey.