Sun, moon and stars in wondrous splendor,
And mortal man, a bit of sod,
Reveals the handiwork of God.
Howe'er there is one work divine,
Excels all others of my rhyme,
The making of a world like this,
Sent circling through so vast a space;
Bright worlds above in glory streaming,
Can not compare with this remaining.
It claims all Heaven's admiration,