The vanity of idols.

NOT unto us, Almighty Lord, But to thyself the glory be! Created by thy awful word, We only live to honor thee.

Where is their God? the heathen cry, And bow to senseless wood and stone; Our God, we tell them, fills the sky, And calls ten thousand worlds his own.

Vain gods! vain men! the Lord alone, Is Israel's worship, Israel's friend; Oh, fear his power, his goodness own, And love him, trust him to the end.

Who lean on him, from strength to strength, From light to light, shall onward move, Till through the grave they pass at length, To sing on high his saving love.