Ye that obey th' immortal King,

Attend his holy place,

Bow to the glories of his power,

And bless his wondrous grace;

Lift up your hands by morning-light,

And send your souls on high;

Raise your admiring thoughts by night

Above the starry sky.

The God of Zion cheers our hearts

With rays of quickening grace;

The God that spread the heavens abroad,

And rules the swelling seas.