Henry Francis Lyte
My God, my King, Thy Praise I Sing
My God, my King, Thy praise I sing,
My heart is all Thine own;
My highest powers, my choicest hours,
I yield to Thee alone.
My voice awake, thy part to take;
My soul, the concert join;
Till all around shall catch the sound,
And mix their hymns with mine.
But man is weak Thy praise to speak;
Your God, ye angels, sing;
’Tis yours to see, more near than we,
The glories of our King.
His truth and grace fill time and space;
As large His honors be
Till all that live their homage give
And praise my God with me.
Henry Francis Lyte's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (My God, my King, Thy Praise I Sing by Henry Francis Lyte )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Realizations of a whore, Shruti Goswami
- Promises, Shruti Goswami
- Wonders Of Wondering, david kush
- Tabatha Khumalo, Bob Johnson
- 'What's Wrong With Her? ', nikka mee farillon
- Emotions Kept Inside, Lawrence S. Pertillar
- Yehi Karna Hay to Insan Banata Keyun Hay, Akhtar Jawad
- Golden Dreams, Ruma Chaudhuri
- Wind shall blow, hasmukh amathalal
- Turn to flower, hasmukh amathalal