Lord, we are blind, we mortals blind,

We can't behold thy bright abode;

O 'tis beyond a creature mind

To glance a thought half way to God!

Infinite leagues beyond the sky

The great Eternal reigns alone,

Where neither wings nor souls can fly,

Nor angels climb the topless throne.

The Lord of glory builds his seat

Of gems insufferably bright,

And lays beneath his sacred feet

Substantial beams of gloomy night.

Yet, glorious Lord, thy gracious eyes

Look through and cheer us from above

Beyond our praise thy grandeur flies,

Yet we adore, and yet we love.