1 God’s gudeliheid the hevins rede, The lift His wark furthschaws;
Syne His richt‐reddins a’ The hevins furth sal tell; The richts and wrangs aboot us, wha Could redd but God Himsel’?
Gin to the lift I heist my e’en — The wark o’ Thine ain haun’ — Whaur mune and starnies a’ are seen, Set there by Thy commaun’;