King of glory, King of peace,

I will love Thee;

And, that love may never cease,

1 will move Thee,

Thou hast granted my request,

Thou hast heard me;

Thou didst note my working

breast,

Thou hast spared me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wherefore with my utmost art

I will sing Thee;

And the cream of all my heart

I wil bring Thee;

Though my sins against me cried,

Thou didst clear me;

And alone, when they replied,

Thou didst hear me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seven whole days, not one in

seven,

I will praise Thee;

In my heart, though not in

heaven,

I can raise Thee

Small it is, in this poor sort

To enrol Thee;

E’en eternity’s too short

To extol Thee.