There is a Book that all may read, [or There is a Book, who runs may read,] Which heav'nly truth imparts, And all the lore its scholars need, Pure eyes and Christian hearts. The works of God above, below, Within us and around, Are pages in that Book, to show How God Himself is found. The glorious sky, embracing all, Is like the Maker's love, Wherewith encompassed, great and small In peace and order move. The moon above, the Church below, A wondrous race they run; But each their radiance, all their glow, Each borrows of its Sun. The Savior lends the light and heat That crown His holy hill; The saints, like stars, around His seat Perform their courses still. The dew of Heav'n is like Thy grace, It steals in silence down; But where it lights, the favored place By richest fruits is known. One Name, above all glorious names, With its ten thousand tongues The everlasting sea proclaims, Echoing angelic songs. The raging fire, the roaring wind, Thy boundless power display, But in the gentler breeze we find The Spirit's viewless way. Two worlds are ours: 'tis only sin Forbids us to descry The mystic heaven and earth within, Plain as the sea and sky. Thou, Who hast giv'n me eyes to see, And love this sight so fair, Give me a heart to find out Thee, And read Thee everywhere.