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Text: | Hymn 87 |
Author: | Isaac Watts |
How wondrous great, how glorious bright,
Must our Creator be,
Who dwells amidst the dazzling light
Of vast infinity!
Our soaring spirits upwards rise
Toward the celestial throne;
Fain would we see the blessed Three,
And the Almighty One.
Our reason stretches all its wings,
And climbs above the skies;
But still how far beneath thy feet
Our grov'lling reason lies!
[Lord, here we bend our humble souls,
And awfully adore;
For the weak pinions of our mind
Can stretch a thought no more.]
Thy glories infinitely rise
Above our lab'ring tongue;
In vain the highest seraph tries
To form an equal song.
[In humble notes our faith adores
The great mysterious King,
While angels strain their nobler powers,
And sweep the immortal string.]
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | How wondrous great, how glorious bright |
Title: | Hymn 87 |
Author: | Isaac Watts |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1806 |