1 How glorious is our Heavenly King, Who reigns above the sky! How shall a child presume to sing His dreadful majesty? 2 How great his power is none can tell, Nor think how large his grace; Not men below, nor saints that dwell On high before his face. 3 Not angels that stand round the Lord Can search his secret will; But they perform his heavenly word, And sing his praises still. 4 Then let me join this holy train, And my first offerings bring; Th' eternal God will not disdain To hear an infant sing. 5 My heart resolves, my tongue obeys, And angels shall rejoice To hear their mighty Maker's praise Sound from a feeble voice. |