The King of Glory Deigns to Stoop

The King of glo­ry deigns to stoop

And view His works be­neath the skies;

To Him all na­tions are a drop

The dust that in the bal­ance lies.

The mount­ains at His pre­sence quake

And burn­ing coals be­fore Him fly;

The floods re­tire

the ce­dars break

And rocks and hills in ru­ins lie.

His judg­ments are a bound­less deep

Beyond the reach of hu­man sense;

Unsearchable His works and ways

Of na­ture and of pro­vi­dence.

The an­gel ar­mies

hosts of men

But exe­cute His just de­crees;

He kills and makes al­ive again

Works when and where and as He please.

The Lord of lords

and King of kings

Through end­less ag­es still the same;

Let Heav’n and earth His glo­ry sing

And all His match­less deeds pro­claim.