The Condescension of God

Eternal pow'r, almighty God,
Who can approach thy throne?
Accessless light is thy abode,
To angel-eyes unknown.

Before the radiance of thine eye
The heav'ns no longer shine,
And all the glories of the sky
Are but the shade of thine.

Great God, and wilt thou condescend
To cast a look below,
To this vile world thy notice bend,
These seats of sin and woe?

But oh! to shew thy smiling face,
To bring thy glories near—
Amazing and transporting grace
To dwell with mortals here!

How strange! how awful is thy love
With trembling we adore:
Not all th' exalted minds above
Its wonders can explore.

While golden harps, and angel tongues
Resound immortal lays,
Great God, permit our humble songs
To rise and mean thy praise.