O worship the King, all glorious above,
And grate-fully sing his wonderful love;
Our Shield and Defender the Ancient of Days,
Pavillion'd in splendor, and girded with praise.
O tell of his might and sing of his grace,
Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space;
His chariots of wrath the deep thunder clouds form,
And dark is the path on the wings of the storm.
Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
In thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail;
Thy mercies, how tender! How firm to the end!
Our Master, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend.