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.]