How shall I praise the eternal God,

How shall I praise the eternal God,
That infinite Unknown?
Who can ascend his high abode,
Or venture near his throne?

Heaven's brightest lamps, with him compared,
How mean they look, and dim!
The holy angels have no spots,
Yet can't compare with him.

Holy is he in all his works,
And truth is his delight;
But sinners, and their wicked ways,
Shall perish from his sight.

None but his favourites may draw near,
Who stand in Christ complete;
Those holy ones shall all appear
And worship at his feet.

In Jesus' image shining bright
With rapture they adore
The holy, holy, holy Lord,
In glory evermore.