While in His temple all His saints do sing,
And for His bounty praise their Heavenly King.
All these are in His omnipresence, still
As living waters from His throne they trill;
As tokens of His love they all flow down
Their beauty, use, and worth the soul do crown.
Men are like Cherubims on either hand
Whose flaming love by His divine command
Is made a sacrifice to ours; which streams
Throughout all worlds, and fills them all with beams.