There's not a leaf within the bower,
⁠There's not a bird upon the tree,
There's not a dewdrop on the flower,
⁠But bears an impress, Lord, of thee.

Thy hand the varied leaf design'd,
⁠And gave the bird its thrilling tone,
Thy power the dewdrop's tints combin'd
⁠Till with the diamond's blaze they shone.

Thus dewdrops, leaves, and birds, and all,
⁠The greatest as the smallest things,
The starry skies, the earth's round ball,
⁠Alike proclaim thee King of kings.

But man alone to bounteous heav'n
⁠The strains of grateful love can raise,
To man alone the grace is giv'n
⁠To join the angelic choirs in praise.