1 How wond'rous great, how glorious bright Must our Creator be, Who dwells amidst the dazzling light Of vast infinity!
2 Our soaring spirits upward rise Tow'rd the celestial throne, Fain would we see the blessed Three, And the Almighty One.
3 Our reason stretches all its wings, And climbs above the skies; But still how far beneath thy feet Our groveling reason lies!
4 [Lord, here we bend our humble souls, And awfully adore, For the weak pinions of our mind Can stretch a thought no more.]
5 Thy glories infinitely rise Above our labouring tongue; In vain the highest seraph tries To form an equal song.
6 [In humble notes our faith adores The great mysterious King, While angels strain their nobler powers, And sweep th' immortal string.]