O Thou who dwell’st on high,
’Mid burn­ing ser­aphs bright,
Pavilioned in the az­ure sky,
Robed with ce­les­ti­al light:
Permit us to draw near,
And wor­ship and ad­ore;
Redeemed from sin and guilt and fear,
Thy bless­ing we im­plore.

Thou high and ho­ly Lord,
Before whom ser­aphs fall
With faces veiled and spir­its awed,
And Thee thrice ho­ly call:
We fall be­fore Thy feet,
Unworthy to draw near,
E’en though be­fore Thy mer­cy seat
Thou call’st us to ap­pear.

Hear Thou the pray­er we bring;
Regard Thy child­ren’s need;
Accept the hymns of praise we sing,
And to our vows give heed.
We seek Thee in Thy Son,
Who died our souls to save—
The cru­ci­fied but ris­en One,
Triumphant o’er the grave.

Through Him, our great high priest
Before the heav’n­ly throne,
We seek re­demp­tion’s pow­er and peace—
Peace to the world un­known;
Seeking, we find Thee near
To bless with ev­ery grace
And make us meet, when Thou ap­pear,
To see Thee face to face.