Thou God of pow­er and God of love,
Whose glo­ry fills the realms ab­ove,
Whose praise arch­an­gels sing,
And veil their faces while they cry,
Thrice ho­ly, to their God most high,
Thrice ho­ly, to their king.

Thee as our God we too would claim,
And bless the Sav­ior’s pre­cious name,
Through whom this grace is given:
He bore the curse to sin­ners due,
He forms their ru­ined souls anew,
And makes them heirs of Hea­ven.

The veil that hides Thy glo­ry rend,
And here in sav­ing power des­cend,
And fix Thy blest ab­ode;
Here to our hearts Thy­self re­veal,
And let each wait­ing spir­it feel
The pre­sence of our God.