1 Lord, we are blind, we mortals blind, We can't behold thy bright abode; O 'tis beyond a creature-mind To glance a thought half-way to God.
2 Infinite leagues beyond the sky The great Eternal reigns alone, Where neither wings nor soul can fly, Nor angels climb the topless throne.
3 The Lord of glory builds his seat Of gems insufferably bright, And lays beneath his sacred feet Substantial beams of gloomy night.
4 Yet, glorious Lord, thy gracious eyes Look thro', and cheer us from above; Beyond our praise thy grandeur flies, Yet we adore, and yet we love.