Since o’er Thy foot­stool here be­low
Such ra­di­ant gems are strewn;
O, what mag­ni­fi­cence must glow,
Great God, about Thy throne!
So bril­liant here these drops of light—
There the full ocean rolls, how bright!

If night’s blue cur­tain of the sky—
With thou­sand stars in-wrought,
Hung like a roy­al ca­no­py
With glit­ter­ing dia­monds fraught—
Be, Lord, Thy tem­ple’s out­er veil,
What splend­or at the shrine must dwell!

The dazz­ling sun at noon­day hour—
Forth from his flam­ing vase
Flinging o’er earth the gold­en show­er
Till vale and mount­ain blaze—
But shows, O Lord, one beam of Thine;
What, then, the day where Thou dost shine!

O, how shall these dim eyes en­dure
That noon of liv­ing rays!
Or how our spir­its, so im­pure,
Upon Thy glo­ry gaze!
Anoint, O Lord, an­oint our sight,
And fit us for that world of light.