1 Not to ourselves, who are but dust,
Not to ourselves is glory due,
Eternal God, Thou only just,
Thou only gracious, wise and true.

2 Shine forth in all Thy dreadful name;
Why should a heathen’s haughty tongue
Insult us, and, to raise our shame,
Say, Where’s the God you’ve served so long?

3 The God we serve maintains His throne
Above the clouds, above the skies;
Through all the earth His will is done;
He knows our groans, He hears our cries.

4 But the vain idols they adore
Are senseless shapes of stone and wood;
At best a mass of glittering ore,
A silver saint or golden god.

5 With eyes and ears they carve their head;
Deaf are their ears, their eyes are blind;
In vain are costly offerings made,
And vows are scattered in the wind.

6 Their feet were never made to move,
Nor hands to save when mortals pray;
Mortals that pay them fear or love
Seem to be blind and deaf as they.

7 O Israel! make the Lord thy hope,
Thy help, thy refuge, and thy rest;
The Lord shall build thy ruins up,
And bless the people and the priest.

8 The dead can no more speak Thy praise,
They dwell in silence and the grave;
But we shall live to sing Thy grace,
And tell the world Thy power to save.