Ascend our mingled orisons,
Listen to these, the notes of praise,
Which we, a happy people, raise!
2 Our hamlets, sheltered by Thy care,
Abodes of peace and plenty are;
Our tillage by Thy blessing yields
An hundred fold from ripened fields:
And flowing grain, and burthened vine,
Are tokens of Thy Love divine.
3 The cradled head of infancy