And veil their faces in a flame,
To see such bright perfections glow--
Such floods of glory from thee flow.
2What mortal hand shall dare to paint
A semblance of thy glory, Lord?
The brightest rainbow-tints are faint;
The brightest stars of heaven afford
But dim effusions of those rays
Of light that round Jehovah blaze.
3The sun himself is but a gleam,