Henry Charles Beeching, ed. (1859–1919). Lyra Sacra: A Book of Religious Verse. 1903.
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HOW 1 shall I sing that Majesty | |
Which angels do admire? | |
Let dust in dust and silence lie; | |
Sing, sing, ye heavenly choir. | |
Thousands of thousands stand around | 5 |
Thy throne, O God most high; | |
Ten thousand times ten thousand sound | |
Thy praise; but who am I? | |
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Thy brightness unto them appears, | |
Whilst I Thy footsteps trace; | 10 |
A sound of God comes to my ears; | |
But they behold Thy face. | |
They sing because Thou art their sun: | |
Lord, send a beam on me; | |
For where heaven is but once begun | 15 |
There hallelujahs be. | |
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Enlighten with faith’s light my heart, | |
Enflame it with love’s fire; | |
Then shall I sing and bear a part | |
With that celestial choir. | 20 |
I shall, I fear, be dark and cold, | |
With all my fire and light; | |
Yet when Thou dost accept their gold, | |
Lord, treasure up my mite. | |
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How great a being, Lord, is Thine | 25 |
Which doth all beings keep! | |
Thy knowledge is the only line | |
To sound so vast a deep. | |
Thou art a sea without a shore, | |
A sun without a sphere; | 30 |
Thy time is now and evermore, | |
Thy place is everywhere. | |
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How good art Thou, whose goodness is | |
Our parent, nurse, and guide! | |
Whose streams do water Paradise, | 35 |
And all the earth beside! | |
Thine upper and Thy nether streams | |
Make bold Thy worlds to thrive; | |
Under Thy warm and sheltering wings | |
Thou keep’st two broods alive. | 40 |
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Thy arm of might, most mighty King, | |
Both rocks and hearts doth break: | |
My God, Thou canst do everything | |
But what should show Thee weak. | |
Thou canst not cross Thyself, or be | 45 |
Less than Thyself, or poor; | |
But whatsoever pleaseth Thee | |
That canst Thou do, and more. | |