Come, O my soul, in sacred lays

1Come, 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!

2Enthroned amid the radiant spheres,
He glory like a garment wears;
To form a robe of light divine,
Ten thousand suns around him shine.

3In all our Maker's grand designs,
Omnipotence with wisdom shines;
His works, through all this wondrous frame,
Declare the glory of his name.

4Raised on devotion's lofty wing,
Do thou, my soul, his glories sing;
And let his praise employ thy tongue
Till listening worlds shall join the song.

5O when his wisdom can mistake,
His might decay, his love forsake,
Then may his children cease to sing,
The Lord omnipotent is King!