Monarch of all, with lowly fear

To whom heaven’s host their voices raise,

Even earth and dust Thy bounties share:

Let earth and dust attempt Thy praise.

Before Thy face, O Lord Most High,

Sinks all created glory down:

Yet be not wroth with me, that I,

Vile worm, draw near Thy awful throne.

Of all Thou the beginning art,

Of all things Thou alone the end:

On Thee still fix my steadfast heart;

To Thee let all my actions tend.

Thou, Lord, art light; Thy native ray

No shade, no variation knows:

On my dark soul (ye clouds, away)

The brightness of Thy face disclose.

Thou, Lord, art love; from Thee pure love

Flows forth in unexhausted streams:

Let me its quickening influence prove,

Fill my whole heart with sacred flames.

Thou, Lord, art good, and Thou alone:

With eager hope, with warm desire,

Thee may I still my portion own,

To Thee in every thought aspire.

So shall my every power to Thee

In love, thanks, praise incessant rise;

Yea, my whole soul and flesh shall be

One holy, living sacrifice.

Lord God of armies, ceaseless praise

In heaven, Thy throne, to Thee is given:

Here, as in heaven, Thy Name we raise;

For where Thy presence shines is heaven.