O, crown the treetops. Dowse the world below.
Spread glory to all regions of the earth
Light, beauteous light, set the world aglow.
Flame of the Father’s soul declares His worth.
When sun shall have forever lost his place
The world in full new splendor shall appear
And all Creation glory to His face:
Redeemed. To kind Creator, now drawn near.
But ‘til the angel’s trump returns us home
Cloud by day and fire by night ever guide
Son’s Spirit cries within us, “Do not roam!”
But briefest hour are we to be tried.
Abide, my soul, abide. He shall return.
‘Til then His light o’er all Creation burn.
Photo Credit: pxhere