King of glory, King of peace,
I
will love Thee;
And
that love may never cease
I
will move Thee.
Thou
hast granted my request,
Thou
hast heard me;
Thou
didst note my working breast,
Thou
hast spared me.
2
Wherefore
with my utmost art
I
will sing Thee,
And
the cream of all my heart
I
will bring Thee.
Though
my sins against me cried,
Thou
didst clear me;
And
alone when they replied,
Thou
didst hear me.
3
Seven
whole days, not one in seven,
I
will praise Thee;
In
my heart, though not in heav’n,
I
can raise Thee.
Small
it is, in this poor sort
To
enroll Thee:
Ev’n
eternity's too short
To
extol me.