Migh-ty God, while an-gels bless you,
May a mor-tal sing your name?
Lord of men as well as an-gels,
You are ev-ery crea-ture's theme.
Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! A-men.
Lord of ev-ery land and na-tion,
An-cient of e-ter-nal days,
Sound-ed through the wide cre-a-tion
Be your just and law-ful praise.
Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! A-men.
For the gran-deur of your na-ture,
Grand be-yond a ser-aph's thought,
For cre-a-ted works of pow-er,
Works with skill and kind-ness wrought.
Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! A-men.
But your rich, your free re-demp-tion,
Dark through bright-ness all a-long,
Thought is poor, and poor ex-pres-sion,
Who dare sing that won-drous song?
Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! A-men.
Bright-ness of your Fath-er's glo-ry,
Shall Your praise un-ut-tered lie?
Fly, my tongue, such guil-ty si-lence,
Sing the Lord who came to die.
Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! A-men.
From the high-est throne in glo-ry,
To the cross of deep-est woe,
All to ran-som guil-ty cap-tives,
Flow my praise, for-ev-er flow.
Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! Al-le-lu-ia! A-men.