To Thee, O God, the Shepherd Kings

To Thee

O God

the shep­herd kings

Their ear­li­est hom­age paid

And waft­ed up­on an­gel wings

Their wor­ship was con­veyed.

And they who watched their flocks by night

Were first to learn Thy grace

Were first to seek by dawn­ing light

Their Sav­ior’s dwell­ing place.

The hills and vales

the woods and streams

The fruits and flow­ers

are Thine;

Where’er the sun can send its beams

Or the mild moon can shine.

By Thee

the spring puts forth its leaves

By Thee

comes down the rain

By Thee

the yel­low har­vest sheaves

Stand rip­en­ing on the plain.

When win­ter comes in storm and wrath

Thy sooth­ing voice is heard;

As round the farm­er’s peace­ful hearth

Is read Thy ho­ly Word.

Thus are we fos­tered by Thy care

Supported by Thy hand;

Our her­it­age is rich and fair

And this Thy chos­en land.