No eagle, mounting on his pinions strong,
Nor sweetly-warbling Nightingale in wood,
No humble flow'r with tint of sky or blood,
Nor scaly fish, nor murm'ring insect throng;
No shaggy beast beneath the forest wide,
No crystal gleaming in its rocky bed,
Nor glossy shell beneath the em'rald sea;
No rippling brook, nor stream of swollen pride,
No golden cloud, nor star in silence led,
Father of all! but speaks aloud of Thee!