1 When the Eternal bows the skies
To visit earthly things,
With scorn divine he turns his eyes
From towers of haughty kings:
2 He bids the awful chariot roll
Far downward from the skies,
To visit every humble soul
With pleasure in his eyes.
3 Why should the Lord that reigns above
Disdain so lofty kings?
Say, Lord, and why such looks of love
Upon such worthless things?
4 Mortals, be dumb; what creature dares
Dispute his awful will?
Ask no account of his affairs,
But tremble and be still.
5 Just like his nature is his grace,
All sovereign and all free;
Great God, how searchless are thy ways,
How deep thy judgments be!
|First Line:||When the Eternal bows the skies|
|Title:||The Grace of God; or, Divine Condescension|