| Alfred H. Miles, ed. The Sacred Poets of the Nineteenth Century. 1907. | | | Sacred Poems.
I. Psalm CIV. (“O worship the King”) | | By Sir Robert Grant (1779–1838) |
| | | O WORSHIP the King | |
| All glorious above; | |
| O gratefully sing | |
| His power and His Love;— | |
| Our Shield and Defender, | 5 |
| The Ancient of days, | |
| Pavilioned in splendour, | |
| And girded with praise. | |
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| O tell of His might, | |
| O sing of His grace, | 10 |
| Whose robe is the light, | |
| Whose canopy space; | |
| His chariots of wrath | |
| Deep thunder-clouds form, | |
| And dark is His path | 15 |
| On the wings of the storm. | |
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| The earth with its store | |
| Of wonders untold, | |
| Almighty, Thy power | |
| Hath founded of old; | 20 |
| Hath stablish’d it fast | |
| By a changeless decree, | |
| And round it hath cast, | |
| Like a mantle, the sea. | |
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| Thy bountiful care | 25 |
| What tongue can recite? | |
| It breathes in the air, | |
| It shines in the light; | |
| It streams from the hills, | |
| It descends to the plain, | 30 |
| And sweetly distils | |
| In the dew and the rain. | |
| |
| Frail children of dust, | |
| And feeble as frail, | |
| In Thee do we trust, | 35 |
| Nor find Thee to fail. | |
| Thy mercies how tender! | |
| How firm to the end! | |
| Our Maker, Defender, | |
| Redeemer, and Friend! | 40 |
| |
| O measureless might, | |
| Ineffable Love, | |
| While Angels delight | |
| To hymn Thee above, | |
| Thy humbler creation, | 45 |
| Though feeble their lays, | |
| With true adoration | |
| Shall lisp to Thy praise. | | | | |
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