Praise ye Him, all His angels: praise ye Him, all His hosts. Psalm 148:2
O Thou to whom archangels raise
A ceaseless song of perfect praise,
Yet tremble as they sing;
To us incline Thy gracious ear,
And while, with reverence, we draw near,
Accept the praise we bring.
In vain with all the angel choir,
The ransomed hosts of Heav’n aspire
Thy glory to proclaim;
How then shall we approach Thy throne?
How make Thy countless mercies known,
Or sing Thine awful name?
Thy love alone our stay hath been,
In every dark and changing scene
Throughout the circling year;
Preserved by Thine almighty hand,
Again before Thy face we stand,
And sing Thy goodness here.
Father, for Jesus’ sake receive
The praise which now we gladly give,
Though with a stammering tongue;
Grant us at length to see Thy face,
And join with all the ransomed race
In Heav’n’s eternal song.