King of glory, King of peace, I will love thee;
And that love may never cease, I will move thee.
Thou hast granted my request, thou hast heard me;
thou didst note my working breast, thou hast spared me.
Wherefore with my utmost art, I will sing thee;
and the cream of all my heart, I will bring thee.
Though my sins against me cried, thou didst clear me;
and alone, when they replied, thou didst hear me.
Seven whole days, not one in sev'n, I will praise thee,
In my heart, though not in heav'n I can raise thee.
Small it is in this poor sort to enroll thee;
e'en eternity's too short to extol thee.