His arm never wearies; His heart never faints,
For strength to guide worlds on their ways;
And all the bright comets that rush through the sky,
Heed the voice of the Ancient of Days!
His heart is the gladdest of all the glad hearts
That join in the anthem of praise;
Yet none grieves like Him o’er the loss of the soul,
Because He’s the Ancient of Days.
His voice is the sweetest in all the glad song
In rapture all Heaven to amaze: