1 [Begin, my tongue, some heavenly theme,
And speak some boundless thing,
The mighty works, or mightier name
Of our eternal King.
2 Tell of his wondrous faithfulness,
And sound his power abroad,
Sing the sweet promise of his grace,
And the performing God.
3 Proclaim |salvation from the Lord
|For wretched dying men;|
His hand has writ the sacred word
With an immortal pen.
4 Engrav'd as in eternal brass,
The mighty promise shines;
Nor can the powers of darkness rase
Those everlasting lines.]
5 [He that can dash whole worlds to death
And make them when he please,
He speaks, and that almighty breath
Fulfils his great decrees.
6 His very word of grace is strong
As that which built the skies,
The voice that rolls the stars along
Speaks all the promises.
7 He said, |Let the wide heaven be spread,|
And heaven was stretch'd abroad;
|Abrah'm, I'll be thy God,| he said,
And he was Abrah'm's God.
8 O, might I hear thine heavenly tongue
But whisper, |Thou art mine;|
Those gentle words should raise my song
To notes almost divine.
9 How would my leaping heart rejoice
And think my heaven secure!
I trust the all-creating voice,
And faith desires no more.]