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.