The spacious firmament on high, 
With all the blue ethereal sky, 
And spangled heavens, a shining frame 
Their great Original proclaim. 
Th?unwearied sun, from day to day, 
Does his Creator?s powers display, 
And publishes to every land 
The work of an Almighty Hand. 

Soon as the evening shades prevail 
The moon takes up the wondrous tale, 
And nightly to the listening earth 
Repeats the story of her birth; 
While all the stars that round her burn 
And all the planets in their turn, 
Confirm the tidings as they roll, 
And spread the truth from pole to pole. 

What though in solemn silence all 
Move round the dark terrestrial ball? 
What though no real voice nor sound 
Amid the radiant orbs be found? 
In reason?s ear they all rejoice, 
And utter forth a glorious voice, 
Forever singing as they shine, 
?The hand that made us is divine.?