Praise Ye Him, All His Angels

Verse 1

God! the eternal, awful name That the whole heav'nly army fears, That shakes the wide creation's frame, And Satan trembles when he hears.

Verse 2

Like flames of fire his servants are, And light surrounds his dwelling-place; But, O ye fiery flames! declare The brighter glories of his face.

Verse 3

'Tis not for such poor worms as we To speak so infinite a thing; But your immortal eyes survey The beauties of your sovereign King.

Verse 4

Tell how he shows his smiling face, And clothes all heav'n in bright array; Triumph and joy run through the place, And songs eternal as the day.

Verse 5

Speak, for you feel his burning love, What zeal it spreads through all your frame; That sacred fire dwells all above, For we on earth have lost the name.

Verse 6

Sing of his power and justice too, That infinite right hand of his That vanquished Satan and his crew, And thunder drove them down from bliss.

Verse 7

What mighty storms of poisoned darts Were hurled upon the rebels there! What deadly jav'lins nailed their hearts Fast to the racks of long despair!

Verse 8

Shout to your King, ye heav'nly host, You that beheld the sinking foe; Firmly ye stood when they were lost: Praise the rich grace that kept you so.

Verse 9

Proclaim his wonders from the skies, Let every distant nation hear; And while you sound his lofty praise, Let humble mortals bow and fear.