God! the eter­nal, aw­ful name
That the whole heav’n­ly ar­my fears,
That shakes the wide cre­ation’s frame,
And Sa­tan trem­bles when he hears.

Like flames of fire His ser­vants are,
And light sur­rounds His dwell­ing place;
But, O ye fie­ry flames! de­clare
The bright­er glor­ies of His face.

’Tis not for such poor worms as we
To speak so in­fi­nite a thing;
But your im­mor­tal eyes sur­vey
The beau­ties of your so­ver­eign king.

Tell how He shows His smil­ing face,
And clothes all Heav’n in bright ar­ray;
Triumph and joy run through the place,
And songs eter­nal as the day.

Speak, for you feel His burn­ing love,
What zeal it spreads through all your frame;
That sac­red fire dwells all ab­ove,
For we on earth have lost the name.

Sing of His pow­er and jus­tice too,
That in­fi­nite right hand of His
That van­quished Sa­tan and his crew,
And thun­der drove them down from bliss.

What migh­ty storms of poi­soned darts
Were hurled up­on the re­bels there!
What dead­ly ja­ve­lins nailed their hearts
Fast to the racks of long des­pair!

Shout to your king, ye heav’n­ly host,
You that be­held the sink­ing foe;
Firmly ye stood when they were lost:
Praise the rich grace that kept you so.

Proclaim His won­ders from the skies,
Let ev­ery dis­tant na­tion hear;
And while you sound His lof­ty praise,
Let hum­ble mor­tals bow and fear.