Disposer su­preme,
And Judge of the earth,
Who choos­est for Thine
The weak and the poor;
To frail earth­en ves­sels
And things of no worth
Entrusting Thy rich­es
Which aye shall en­dure.

Those ves­sels soon fail,
Though full of Thy light,
And at Thy de­cree,
Are brok­en and gone;
Thence bright­ly ap­pear­eth
Thy truth in its might,
As through the clouds ri­ven
The light­nings have shone.

Like clouds they are borne
To do Thy great will,
And swift as the winds
About the world go;
The Word with His wis­dom
Their spir­its doth fill,
They thun­der, they light­en,
The wa­ters o’er­flow.

Their sound go­eth forth,
Christ Je­sus the Lord;
Then Sa­tan doth fear,
His ci­ta­dels fall;
As when the dread trum­pets
Went forth at Thy Word,
And one long blast shat­tered
The Ca­naan­ite’s wall.

O loud be their trump,
And stir­ring their sound,
To rouse us, O Lord,
From slum­ber of sin;
The lights Thou hast kin­dled
In dark­ness around,
O may they il­lu­mine
Our spir­its with­in.

All hon­or and praise,
Dominion and might,
To God, Three in One,
Eternally be;
Who round us hath shed
His own mar­vel­ous light,
And called us from dark­ness
His glo­ry to see.