PSALM VIII.

Tate and Brady

In heav'n thy wondrous acts are sung,
Nor fully reckon'd, there;
2 And yet thou mak'st the infant tongue
Thy boundless praise declare.

Thro' thee the weak confound the strong,
And crush their haughty foes;
And so thou quell'st the wicked throng,
That thee and thine oppose.

3 When heav'n, thy beauteous work on high,
Employs my wond'ring sight;
The moon that nightly rules the sky,
With stars of feebler light;

4.What's man, say I, that, Lord, thou lov'st
To keep him in thy mind?
Or what his offspring, that thou prov'st
To them so wondrous kind?

5 Him next in pow'r thou didst create
To thy celestial train;
6 Ordain'd with dignity and state
O'er all thy works to reign.

7. They jointly own his pow'rful sway;
The beasts that prey or graze;
8 The bird that wings its airy way;
The fish that cuts the seas.

9 O thou, to whom all creatures bow
Within this earthly frame,
Thro' all the world how great art thou!
How glorious is thy Name!