O LORD, our Lord, how high, how 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, The 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!
Let Him be crowned with majesty Who bowed His head to death, And be His honours sounded high By all things that have breath.
Jesus, our Lord, how high, how great Is Thine exalted name! The glories of Thy heavenly state Let the whole earth proclaim.
Isaac Watts, 1674-1748