Words: Isaac Watts
A plain translation. Praise to our Creator. 1 Ye nations round the earth, rejoice Before the Lord, your sov'reign King; Serve him with cheerful heart and voice, With all your tongues his glory sing. 2 The Lord is God; 'tis he alone Doth life, and breath, and being give; We are his work, and not our own, The sheep that on his pastures live. 3 Enter his gates with songs of joy, With praises to his courts repair; And make it your divine employ To pay your thanks and honors there. 4 The Lord is good, the Lord is kind, Great is his grace, his mercy sure; And the whole race of man shall find His truth from age to age endure. A paraphrase. 1 Sing to the Lord with joyful voice, Let ev'ry land his name adore; The British isles shall send the noise Across the ocean to the shore. 2 Nations, attend before his throne With solemn fear, with sacred joy; Know that the Lord is God alone; He can create and he destroy. 3 His sov'reign power, without our aid, Made us of clay and formed us men; And when, like wand'ring sheep, we strayed, He brought us to his fold again. 4 We are his people, we his care, Our souls and all our mortal frame: What lasting honors shall we rear, Almighty Maker, to thy name? 5 We'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs, High as the heav'ns our voices raise; And earth with her ten thousand tongues Shall fill thy courts with sounding praise. 6 Wide as the world is thy command, Vast as eternity thy love! Firm as a rock thy truth must stand, When rolling years shall cease to move.