King of glory, King of peace,

I will love Thee;

And that love may never cease,

I will move Thee.

Thou hast granted my request,

Thou hast heard me;

Thou didst note my working breast,

Thou hast spared me.

Wherefore with my utmost art

I will sing Thee,

And the cream of all my heart

I will bring Thee.

Though my sins against me cried,

Thou didst clear me;

And alone, when they replied,

Thou didst hear me.

Seven whole days, not one in seven,

I will praise Thee;

In my heart, though not in Heaven,

I can raise Thee.

Thou grew'st soft and moist with tears,

Thou relentedst,

And when Justice call'd for fears,

Thou dissentedst.

Small it is, in this poor sort

To enrol Thee;

E'en eternity is too short

To extol Thee.