What a polluted world this is,

What a polluted world this is,
A vale of sin and woe!
The sons of earth complain of this,
But Zion feels it so.

The world to creature-objects fly,
Their maladies to heal;
But Zion cries to God on high,
"Do thou thy face reveal.

"Saviour divine, reveal thy love;
Bright Morning Star, arise,
And lead my thoughts to things above,
E'en to the upper skies.

"This shall create a joy within,
Beyond what angels know,
And stimulate my powers to sing
The Saviour's praise below."