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- Hark, my soul, how everything.
Strives to serve our bounteous King;
Each a double tribute pays
Sings its part, and then obeys.
- Nature’s chief and sweetest choir,
Him with cheerful notes admire;
Chanting every day their lauds,
While the grove their song applauds.
- Though their voices lower be,
Streams have too their melody;
Night and day they warbling run,
Never pause, but still sing on.
- All the flowers that gild the spring,
Hither their still music bring;
If heaven bless them, thankful, they
Smell more sweet, and look more gay.
- Only we can scarce afford,
This short office to our Lord;
We, on whom his bounty flows,
All, things give, and nothing owes.
- Wake, for shame, my sluggish heart,
Wake, and gladly sing your part;
Learn of birds, and springs, and flowers,
How to use your noblest powers.
- Call whole nature to your aid;
Since ’twas he whole nature made;
Join in one eternal song,
Who to one God all belong.