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

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