Posted by Robert Grant on October 23, 2014
O tell of His might, O sing of His grace,Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space,His chariots of wrath the deep thunderclouds form,And dark is His path on the wings of the storm.
Thy bountiful care, what tongue can recite?It breathes in the air, it shines in the light;It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,And sweetly distills in the dew and the rain.
O measureless might! Ineffable love!While angels delight to worship Thee above,The humbler creation, though feeble their lays,With true adoration shall all sing Thy praise.
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