There is a book who runs may read,
Which heavenly truth imparts;
And all the lore its scholars need,
Pure eyes and Christian hearts.
The works of God, above, below,
Within us and around,
Are pages in that book, to show
How God Himself is found.
The glorious sky, embracing all,
Is like the Maker’s love,
Wherewith encompassed, great and small
In peace and order move.
The moon above, the Church below,
A wondrous race they run;
But all their radiance, all their glow,
Each borrows from its sun.
The raging fire, the roaring wind,
Thy boundless power display;
But in the gentler breeze we find
Thy Spirit’s viewless way.
Two worlds are ours; ’tis only sin
Forbids us to descry
The mystic heaven and earth within,
Plain as the sea and sky.
Thou, who has given me eyes to see
And love this sight so fair,
Give me a heart to find out Thee,
And read Thee everywhere.