O God, the joy of Heav’n above,
Thou didst not need Thy crea­tures’ love,
When from Thy sec­ret place of rest
Thy Word the earth’s foun­da­tions blest.

Thou spak­est: worlds be­gan to be;
They bow be­fore Thy ma­jes­ty;
And all to their cre­at­or raise
A won­drous har­mo­ny of praise.

But ere, O Lord, this love­ly earth
From Thy cre­at­ive will had birth,
Thou in Thy coun­sels didst un­fold
Another world of fair­er mold.

That realm shall our Re­deem­er frame,
And build up­on His migh­ty name;
His hand the word of pow­er shall sow,
That all the earth His truth may know.

When time it­self has passed away,
His Church, se­cure in Heav’n for aye,
Shall share His table and His throne,
And God the Fa­ther reign alone.

O Fa­ther, Son, and Spi­rit blest,
One God in Heav’n and earth con­fessed,
Preserve, di­rect, and fill with love
Thy realm on earth, Thy realm above.