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Rh Yet, Lord, my heart's best love is giv'n Not for these works of earth and heav'n; For morning's incense-breathing air, Or evening's charms however fair;

No! may thy holy name be blest For this one gift above the rest,— That having made all things for me, Thou, Lord, hast made myself for thee.

 

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.

