13-17 Ye heav’ns, send forth your song of praise!
earth, raise your voice below!
Let hills and mountains join the hymn,
and joy through nature flow.
2 Behold how gracious is our God!
hear the consoling strains,
In which he cheers our drooping hearts,
and mitigates our pains.
3 Cease ye, when days of darkness come,
in sad dismay to mourn,
As if the Lord could leave his saints
forsaken or forlorn.
4 Can the fond mother e’er forget
the infant whom she bore?
And can its plaintive cries be heard,
nor move compassion more?
5 She may forget: nature may fail
a parent’s heart to move;
But Sion on my heart shall dwell
in everlasting love.
6 Full in my sight, upon my hands
I have engrav’d her name:
My hands shall build her ruin’d walls,
and raise her broken frame.
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