Psalm 8 (Version 2)

O Lord, our Lord, how wondrous great

Is thine exalted name!

The glories of thy heavenly state

Let men and babes proclaim.

When I behold thy works on high,

The moon that rules the night,

And stars that well adorn the sky,

Those moving worlds of light;

Lord, what is man, or all his race,

Who dwells so far below,

That thou shouldst visit him with grace,

And love his nature so?

That thine eternal Son should bear

To take a mortal form,

Made lower than his angels are,

To save a dying worm!

[Yet while he liv'd on earth unknown,

And men would not adore,

Th' obedient seas and fishes own

His Godhead and his power.

The waves lay spread beneath his feet;

And fish, at his command,

Bring their large shoals to Peter's net,

Bring tribute to his hand.

These lesser glories of the Son

Shone thro' the fleshly cloud;

Now we behold him on his throne,

And men confess him God.]

Let him be crown'd with majesty,

Who bow'd his head to death;

And be his honours sounded high,

By all things that have breath.

Jesus, our Lord, how wondrous great

Is thine exalted name!

The glories of thy heavenly state

Let the whole earth proclaim.