1 Rise, rise, my soul, and leave the ground,
Stretch all thy thoughts abroad,
And rouse up every tuneful sound
To praise th' eternal God.
2 Long ere the lofty skies were spread
Jehovah fill'd his throne;
Or Adam form'd, or angels made,
The Maker liv'd alone.
3 His boundless years can ne'er decrease,
But still maintain their prime;
Eternity's his dwelling-place,
And ever is his time.
4 While like a tide our minutes flow,
The present and the past,
He fills his own immortal now,
And sees our ages waste.
5 The sea and sky must perish too,
And vast destruction come!
The creatures -- look, how old they grow,
And wait their fiery doom!
6 Well, let the sea shrink all away,
And flame melt down the skies,
My God shall live an endless day,
When th' old creation dies.