His oceans all rum­ble and bat­ter His shore,
But He will be new when its waves are no more.
His mount­ains reach sky­ward to touch His sweet face;
His for­ests burst forth as He show­ers their place.

The migh­ty Le­vi­athan leaps in His seas,
The ea­gle mounts up on the joy of His breeze.
The crea­tures of earth bor­row life from His hand,
Their days are all nu­mbered by His firm co­mmand.

Eternity springs from His In­fi­nite Mind—
All time and all space from His fing­ers un­wind,
His in­tri­cate, lim­it­less, un­bound­ed skill
Spins threads of His so­ver­eign, in­scrut­able will.

The thun­der of Si­nai re­sounds in our ears,
The judg­ment of God stirs the deep­est of fears!
But, awe­some and won­drous—more stag­ger­ing still—
The flash­es of light­ning from Cal­va­ry’s hill!

But O! How migh­ty, how per­fect, how free,
How bless­èd, how pre­cious, how love­ly is He!
And O! Ho grand, and how sweet to be­hold
The tro­phies of grace He has on from of old!

A ra­di­ant tri­umph il­lum­ines His face!
He strides to His throne, the Co­lo­ssus of Grace!
He sits, and His Fa­ther pro­claims Him True Son!
His strife is now ov­er; His bat­tle is done.

We bow, we ad­ore, we fall down at His throne,
He ga­thers us in­to His arms as His on!
He seats us in glo­ry be­side Him above,
To crown His achiev­ement with splen­dors of love!