Thou art, O God! a Spi­rit pure,
Invisible to mor­tal eyes;
Th’immortal, and th’eter­nal King,
The great, the good, the only wise.

Whilst na­ture ­, and her works
Corrupt, de­cay, dis­solve and die,
Thy es­sence pure no change shall see,
Secure of im­mor­ta­li­ty.

Thou great in­vi­si­ble! what hand
Can draw Thy im­age spot­less fair?
To what in Hea­ven, to what on earth
Can men th’im­mor­tal King com­pare?

Let stu­pid hea­thens frame their gods
Of gold and sil­ver, wood and stone;
Ours is the God that made the hea­vens,
Jehovah He, and God alone.

My soul, Thy pur­est hom­age pay,
In truth and spi­rit Him adore;
More shall this please than sac­ri­fice,
Than out­ward forms de­light Him more.