Come, O my soul, in sacred lays, Attempt thy great Creator's praise: But O what tongue can speak His fame? What mortal verse can reach the theme? Enthroned amid the radiant spheres, He glory like a garment wears; To form a robe of light divine, Ten thousand suns around Him shine. In all our Maker's grand designs, Omnipotence, with wisdom, shines; His works, through all this wondrous frame, Declare the glory of His name. Raised on devotion's lofty wing, Do thou, my soul, His glories sing; And let His praise employ thy tongue, Till listening worlds shall join the song. Thomas Blacklock
Copied from my grandmother’s hymnal, Hymn Book, Methodist Episcopal Church, South: Nashville, TN, 1901, Hymn #12.
Note: The hymns in this hymnal are not titled. So when I do not know the hymn, I make up a title or simply use the first line.
Photo taken in Milton, FL, 2021