My thoughts awaken me to see You;
They show me in Your heart's eye Your deeds;
They teach me to tell Your wonders,
"When I behold Your heavens,
The work Your fingers made."
Around its course the disk of heaven walks,
A potter’s wheel enwhirling the world;
It has no lips, and yet it tells Your glory
To earth, unmoved within its orbit,
Suspended in the void,
By cords of Your love stayed.
Thither the sun yearns, and there burns,
And of its light some to the moon lends.
While heaven’s sphere is spread out like a tent,
With stars blooming on it, a garden,
Proclaiming how profound
The plans that You have laid.