The Art of Worship

How wonderful, how beautiful
the sight of thee must be,
thine endless wisdom, boundless power
and awful purity.

O how I fear thee, living god,
with deepest, tenderest fears,
and worship thee with trembling hope
and penitential tears.

Only to sit and think of god,
oh, what joy it is!
To think the thought, to breathe the name,
earth has no higher bliss!

Father of Jesus, love's reward,
what rapture will it be,
prostrate before thy throne to lie
and gaze, and gaze on thee.

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