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Isaac Watts - Psalm VIII: O Lord, Our Lord
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O Lord, our Lord, how wondrous great
         Is thine exalted name!
   The glories of thy heav`nly 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 should 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 lived on earth unknown,
         And men would not adore,
   The obedient seas and fishes own
         His Godhead and his power.

The waves lay spread beneath His feat;
         And fish, at his command,
   Bring their large shoals to Peter`s net,
         Bring tribute to his hand.

Those lesser glories of the son
         Shone through the fleshly cloud;
   Now, we behold Him on His throne,
         And men confess Him God.

Let Him be crowned with majesty,
         Who bowed His head to death;
   And be His honors 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.
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