Dressed in inexhaustible,
Unapproachable and incomparable light,
The sun is your halo,
Your backdrop: The night,
The stars pick You out, they outline Your glory,
Humbled I stagger and stumble before them,
I'm thrilled at Your majesty,
Awestruck at the sight,
Nothing to add the Alpha of all things,
No garment to fashion, for the creator of all,
Creation itself is the expression of your beauty,
The green grass of summer,
The orange arrangement of autumnal fall,
The warm and deep browns in the depths of the earth,
And the full flourish of flowers,
The blues of the sky and the aqua-marine,
And these just the colours that my eyes have beheld,
And yet there are more colours that still wait to be seen,
Oh there is still (and yet nothing) more,
Than the brown eyes of God,
The beauty I see in them cuts through my heart,
No picture or painting or poem or piece of music,
Can begin to describe 'How great Thou Art'
What can I bring to embellish or to add to your beauty?
Descriptive powers to declare your praise,
Were my words like Wordworth's and could they flow freely forever,
I'd not be able to add a thing
To the beauty of a single glance of Your face
My powers of description are found wanting and lacking,
The best that I have simply will not do,
They add nothing to the infinite glory,
Of the source of all that is lovely and true,
But yet, somehow, in a moment,
Singing, and pouring my heart out too,
In my own eyes, I realise,
How fitting it is,
That still my praise, in your endless mercy
Fits you so well and
Looks so good on you
