Not to Ourselves

Not to our­selves

who are but dust

Not to our­selves is glo­ry due

Eternal God

Thou on­ly just

Thou on­ly gra­cious

wise and true.

Shine forth in all Thy dread­ful name;

Why should a hea­then’s haugh­ty tongue

Insult us

and

to raise our shame

Say

Where’s the God you’ve served so long?

The God we serve main­tains His throne

Above the clouds

ab­ove the skies;

Through all the earth His will is done;

He knows our groans

He hears our cries.

But the vain id­ols they ad­ore

Are sense­less shapes of stone and wood;

At best a mass of glit­ter­ing ore

A sil­ver saint or gold­en god.

With eyes and ears they carve their head;

Deaf are their ears

their eyes are blind;

In vain are cost­ly of­fer­ings made

And vows are scat­tered in the wind.

Their feet were nev­er made to move

Nor hands to save when mor­tals pray;

Mortals that pay them fear or love

Seem to be blind and deaf as they.

O Is­ra­el! make the Lord thy hope

Thy help

thy re­fuge

and thy rest;

The Lord shall build thy ru­ins up

And bless the peo­ple and the priest.

The dead can no more speak Thy praise

They dwell in si­lence and the grave;

But we shall live to sing Thy grace

And tell the world Thy pow­er to save.