1 Eternal Source of every joy!
Well may thy praise our lips employ,
While in thy temple we appear,
Whose goodness crowns the circling year.
2 The flowery spring, at thy command,
Embalms the air, and paints the land;
The summer rays with vigor shine,
To raise the corn and cheer the vine.
3 Thy hand, in autumn, richly pours
Through all our coasts redundant stores;
And winters, softened by thy care,
No more a face of horror wear.
4 Seasons and months, and weeks and days,
Demand successive songs of praise;
Still be the cheerful homage paid,
With opening light and evening shade.
Source: The Voice of Praise: a collection of hymns for the use of the Methodist Church #780