1 Lord, we are blind, we mortals blind,
We can't behold thy bright abode;
O 'tis beyond a creature-mind
To glance a thought half-way to God.
2 Infinite leagues beyond the sky
The great Eternal reigns alone,
Where neither wings nor soul can fly,
Nor angels climb the topless throne.
3 The Lord of glory builds his seat
Of gems insufferably bright,
And lays beneath his sacred feet
Substantial beams of gloomy night.
4 Yet, glorious Lord, thy gracious eyes
Look thro', and cheer us from above;
Beyond our praise thy grandeur flies,
Yet we adore, and yet we love.