Words: Isaac Watts, 1719, alt.

Music: Michael Praetorius, 1571–1621

View Lyrics
Let all the earth their voices raise,
to sing the choicest psalm of praise,
to sing and bless Jehovah's name:
His glory let the heathens know,
His wonders to the nations show,
and all His saving works proclaim.

The heathens know Your glory, Lord,
the wond'ring nations read Your word,
but here Jehovah's name is known;
nor shall our worship e'er be paid
to gods which mortal hands have made;
our Maker is our God alone.

He framed the globe, He built the sky,
He made the shining worlds on high,
and reigns complete in glory there;
His beams are majesty and light;
His beauties how divinely bright!
His temple how divinely fair!

Come the great day, the glorious hour,
when earth shall feel His saving pow'r,
and godless nations fear His name;
then shall the race of men confess
the beauty of His holiness,
and in His courts His grace proclaim.