Classic Poem

The Lord—the Lord of glory, reigns,
In majesty arrayed:
His power the universe sustains;
By Him it first was made.

Thou art from everlasting, Lord;
Forever fixed thy throne:
All sprang from thy creative word:
Thou art the Holy One.

The mighty waves are rolling high;
The floods lift up their voice;
They seem to meet the bending sky;
The roaring storms rejoice.

But thou, O Lord, art mightier far;
The tempests bow to thee;
Thy voice can still their raging war,
And smooth the troubled sea.

He, who can calm the stormy deep,
Will give his servants peace:
His promises he 'll ever keep;
His mercies never cease.

O, then, let all from sin depart,
And keep his sacred word;
Let holiness make every heart
A temple for the Lord.