1 Praise ye the Lord, y' immortal choirs,
That fill the realms above;
Praise hi who form'd you of his fires,
And feeds yo with his love.
2 Shine to his praise, ye crystal skies,
The floor of his abode;
Or veil in shades your thousand eyes,
Before your brighter God.
3 Thou restless glove of golden light,
Whose beams create our days,
Join with the silver queen of night,
To own your borrow'd rays.
4 Winds, ye shall bear his name aloud
Through the ethereal blue,
For when his chariot is a cloud,
He makes his wheels of you.
5 Thunder and hail, and fires and storms,
The troops of his command,
Appear in all your dreadful forms,
And speak his awful hand.
6 Shout to the Lord, ye surging seas,
In your eternal roar;
Let wave to wave resound his praise,
And shore reply to shore.
Source: A Pocket hymn book, designed as a constant companion for the pious: collected from various authors #CLX