Sometimes I can hear it; the language of the wind,
The whisper of the trees.
Sometimes I can sense it; the dialect of stars,
The utterance of wild, pounding seas.
If our tongues in praise of God would cease
The rocks and hills would never, ever hold their peace.
Let all of nature, all of men and earth rise up,
Together crying:
"Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty!"
"Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty!"
