![]() In light inaccessible hid from our eyes, |
Most blessèd, most glorious, the ancient of days, |
Almighty, victorious, Thy great name we praise. |
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Unresting, unhasting, and silent as light, |
Nor wanting, nor wasting, Thou rulest in might; |
Thy justice like mountains high soaring above, |
Thy clouds which are fountains of goodness and love. |
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To all life Thou givest, to both great and small; |
In all life Thou livest, the true life of all; |
We blossom and flourish as leaves on the tree, |
And wither and perish — but nought changeth Thee. |
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Great Father of glory, pure Father of light, |
Thine angels adore Thee, all veiling their sight; |
All laud we would render; O help us to see |
’Tis only the splendour of light hideth Thee. |
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— WALTER CHALMERS SMITH, 1824-1908
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