1 Fairest of all the lights above,
Thou sun, whose beams adorn the spheres,
And with unwearied swiftness move,
To form the circles of our years;

2 Praise the Creator of the skies,
That dress'd thine orb in golden rays:
Or let the sun forget to rise,
If he forget his Maker's praise!

3 Thou reigning beauty of the night,
Fair queen of silence, silver moon,
Whose gentle beams, and borrow'd light,
Are softer rivals of the moon;

4 Arise, and to that sovereign Power
Waxing and waning honours pay,
Who bade thee rule the dusky hour,
And half supply the absent day!

5 Ye twinkling stars that gild the skies,
When darkness has its curtain drawn,
That keep your watch with wakeful eyes,
When business, cares, and day, are gone;

6 Proclaim the glories of your Lord,
Dispers'd through all the heavenly street,
Whose boundless treasures can afford,
So rich a pavement for his feet!

7 O God of glory, God of love,
Thou art the sun that makes our days;
With all thy shining works above
Let man attempt to speak thy praise!