From blooming rose to howling storm,
And gently dropping dew;
A voice of power that sings of Him,
To Whom all praise is due.
Both sun and moon, they rise and fall,
Vales, woods and meadows bloom;
Our Lord and God Who made them all,
To show His wondrous name.
Springs from the hills, run down below,
Fill valley, brook and stream;
All shout with joy, with praise o’erflow,
Revealing God’s great scheme.
Alas, the glory of our God,
In all its power is seen;
Rebellious man is reconciled,
In Jesus Christ, God’s Son.