1 Eternal Pow'r! whose high abode
Becomes the grandeur of a God;
Infinite lengths beyond the bounds
Where stars revolve their little rounds!

2 Far in the depths of space, thy throne
Burns with a lustre all its own:
In shining ranks beneath thy feet,
Angelic pow'rs and splendors meet.

3 Lord, what shall feeble mortals do?
We would adore our Maker too;
With lowly minds to thee we cry,
The Great, the Holy, and the High.

4 God is in heav'n, and man below;
Short be our tunes, our words be few:
Let sacred rev'rence check our songs,
And praise sit silent on our tongues.