Come, O my soul, in sacred lays
1
Come, O my soul, in sacred lays,Attempt thy great Creator's praise;But O what tongue can speak his fame!What mortal verse declare his name!
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Enthroned amid the radiant spheres,He glory like a garment wears;To form a robe of light divine,Ten thousand suns around him shine.
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In all our Maker's grand designs,Omnipotence with wisdom shines;His works, through all this wondrous frame,Declare the glory of his name.
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Raised on devotion's lofty wing,Do thou, my soul, his glories sing;And let his praise employ thy tongueTill listening worlds shall join the song.