Thou great, ador'd! thou excellence divine

Thou great, ador'd! thou excellence divine! Beauty is thine in all its conq'ring pow'rs— What is there lovely in the spacious earth, Or in th' etherial round, compar'd to thee? In thee we trace up pleasure to its source! Thou art the great original of joy, Th' eternal spring of life, the source of love Divine—beyond similitude supreme; With whose immensity we're all surrounded!

ACTIVE in indolence, abroad we roam, In quest of happiness, which dwells at home; With vain pursuits fatigu'd, at length we find, No place excludes it from an equal mind.

OH what a scene of bliss the soul employs, Wrapt in the prospect of eternal joys! Where all immortal Hallelujahs sing, And praise the world's Redeemer, Heaven's King; Where hymns of glory, every voice employ; Where all is love, and harmony and joy.