1 Lord, we are blind, we mortals blind,
We can't behold thy bright abode;
O! 'tis beyond a creature's mind,
To glance a thought half way to God.

2 Infinite leagues beyond the sky
The Great Eternal reigns alone,
Where neither wings nor souls can fly,
Nor angels climb the topless throne.

3 The Lord of glory builds his seat
Of gems insuperably bright,
And lays beneath his sacred feet
Substantial beams of gloomy night.

4 Yet, glorious Lord, thy gracious eyes
Look through, and cheer us from above;
Beyond our praise thy grandeur flies,
Yet we adore, and yet we love.