Sov·er·eign

Hands of rich timber, might Divine,

With unknown brilliance maketh fine;

Alone able to form sea and sky,

Eager to give the weary where to lie.

Ten trillion suns tribute to Him give,

Yet through Him does the lily live;

Heavenly hosts bathe in light where He abides,

O, all these and more, in His mind resides.

The One who tames cold, distant star,

Is not deaf to child’s cry from afar;

Mighty King, ancient One, in majesty,

Is ever clothed in robes of humility.

God of bird, beast, creeping thing,

Is glad to hear His creatures sing;

He whose very crown is flaming holiness,

Ever inclines towards us in lowliness.

Chief among all beings is He,

Yet how is it He ponders over me;

With every sin He does ache in pain,

His own blood has rinsed every stain.

The mighty storm, the sea, speak His name,

Though in His heart is shelter from the rain;

Residing in the realm of heaven’s highest court,

Reigns an eternal and everlasting port.

Roaring as a lion upon His great white throne,

Yet a shepherd, every sheep is surely known;

Clothed in fire, wreathed with a mighty mane,

The sovereign King, who shall forever reign.