All that's good, and great, and true,
All that is and is to be,
Be it old or be it new,
Comes, O Father, comes from Thee.

Mercies dawn with every day,
Newer, brighter than before;
And the sun's declining ray
Layeth others up in store.

Not a bird that doth not sing
Sweetest praises to Thy Name;
Not an insect on the wing
But Thy wonders doth proclaim.

Every blade and every tree
All in happy concert ring,
And in wondrous harmony
Join in praises to their King.

Fill us, then, with love divine;
Grant that we, though toiling here,
May in spirit, being Thine,
See and hear Thee everywhere.

May we all, with songs of praise,
Whilst on earth Thy Name adore,
Till with angel choirs we raise
Songs of praise forevermore.