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1 Eternal source of every joy !
Well may thy praise our lips employ,
While in thy temple we appear,
To hail thee, sovereign of the year.
2 Wide as the wheels of nature roll,
Thy hand supports and guides the whole :
The sun is taught by thee to rise.
And darkness when to veil the skies.
3 The flow'ry spring at thy command.
Perfumes the air, and paints the land ;
The summer rays with vigour shine
To raise the corn and cheer the vine.
4 Thy hand in autumn richly pours
Through all our coasts redundant stores ;
And winters, soften'd by thy care,
No more the face of horror wear.
5 Seasons, and months, and weeks, and days.
Demand successive songs of praise ;
And be the grateful homage paid.
With morning light and ev'ning shade.
6 Here in thy house let incense rise.
And circling sabbaths bless our eyes,
'Till to those lofty heights we soar.
Where days and years revolve no more.