O worship the King, all glorious above, and gratefully sing His wonderful love
Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days, pavilioned in splendor, And girded with praise.
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
You alone are the matchless King, to You alone be all majesty
Your glories, Your wonders; what tongue can recite?
We offer our praise, bowing our lives
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 Maker, Defender, Redeemer and Friend