Verse 1
Thou God of boundless power and grace,
How wonderful are all thy ways,
How far above our loftiest thought!
In presence of the meanest things,
(While all from thee the virtue springs,)
Thy most stupendous works are wrought.
Struck by a stroke of Moses’ rod
The parting sea confess’d its God,
And high in crystal bulwarks rose;
At Moses’ beck it burst the chain,
Return’d to all its strength again,
And swept to hell thy church’s foes.

Verse 2
Let but thy ark the walls surround,
Let but the ram’s-horn trumpets sound,
The city boasts its height no more,
Its bulwarks are at once o’erthrown,
Its massy walls by air blown down,
They fall before almighty power.
Jordan at thy command shall heal
The sore disease incurable,
And wash out all the leper’s stains;
Or oyl the med’cine shall supply,
Or cloaths, or shadows passing by,
If so thy sovereign will ordains.

Verse 3
Yet not from these the power proceeds,
Trumpets, or rods, or cloaths, or shades,
Thy only arm the work hath done,
If instruments thy wisdom chuse,
Thy grace confers their saving use;
Salvation is from God alone.
Thou in this sacramental bread
Dost now our hungry spirits feed,
And chear us with the hallow’d wine,
(Communion of thy flesh and blood)
We banquet on immortal food,
And drink the streams of life divine.