O Lord, our Lord, how great,
How excellent you are!
At your bidding, the pear tree
gowns herself in soft, snowy sweetness.
You beckon, and the jonquils
rise from the chilled earth,
their laughing, sunny faces turning
upward to you.
At your gentle command, tiny
leap up with joy, carpeting the
Summoned by your voice, the sleeping
to adorn her graceful limbs with
exquisite golden array.
She shouts the glory of you,
You tenderly whisper to the dogwood;
he obediently heralds his rebirth
with waxen, delicate flow'r.
Herb, grass, shrub, pinewood, silent
slumbering soil -
all resurrect at your behest
to praise your holy, holy name!
O Lord, our Lord,
How great, how excellent you are!