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.