O Throned, O Crowned with All Renown

O throned

O crowned with all re­nown

Since Thou the earth hast trod

Thou reign­est

and by Thee come down

Henceforth the gifts of God.

By Thee the suns of space

that burn

Unspent

their watch­es hold;

The hosts that turn

and still re­turn

Are swayed

and poised

and rolled.

The pow­ers of earth

for all her ills

An end­less trea­sure yield;

The pre­cious things of an­cient hills

Forest

and fruit­ful field;

Thine is the health

and Thine the wealth

That in our halls abound;

And Thine the beau­ty and the joy

With which the years are crowned.

And as

when ebbed the flood

our sires

Kneeled on the mount­ain sod

While o’er the new world’s al­tar fires

Shone out the bow of God;

And sweet­ly fell the peace­ful spell—

Word that shall aye av­ail—

Summer and win­ter shall not cease

Seed time nor har­vest fail.

Thus in their change let frost and heat

And winds and dew be giv’n;

All fos­ter­ing pow­er

all in­flu­ence sweet

Breathe from the boun­te­ous Heav’n.

Attemper fair with gen­tle air

The sun­shine and the rain

That kind­ly earth with time­ly birth

May yield her fruits again;

That we may feed Thy poor aright

And

ga­ther­ing round Thy throne

Here in the ho­ly an­gels’ sight

Repay Thee of Thine own.

For so our sires in old­en time

Spared nei­ther gold nor gear

Nor pre­cious wood

nor hew­en stone

Thy sac­red shines to rear.

For there to give the se­cond birth

In mys­ter­ies and signs

The face of Christ o’er all the earth

On keel­ing myr­iads shines.

And if so fair be­yond com­pare

Thine earth­ly houses be

In how great grace shall we Thy face

In Thine own pal­ace see?