The heathen in his blindness Bows down to wood and stone.

Though every great prospect pleases, And only man is vile.

Holy, Holy, Holy! Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee: Holy, Holy, Holy! Merciful and Mighty! God in Three Persons, Blessed Tri…

From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand, Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand.