O worship the King, all glorious above,
O gratefully sing his power and his love;
Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of Days,
Pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise.
O tell of his might, O sing of his grace,
Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space;
His chariots of wrath the deep thunderclouds form,
And dark is his path on the wings of the storm.
The earth with its store of wonders untold
Almighty, your power has founded of old,
Has stablished it fast by a changeless decree,
And round it has cast, like a mantle, the sea.
Your bountiful care, what tongue can recite?
It breathes in the air, it shines in the light;
It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,
And sweetly distills in the dew and the rain.
Frail children of of dust, and feeble as frail,
In You do we trust, nor find You to fail;
Your mercies how tender, how firm to the end,
Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend.
– Psalm 104, Robert Grant, 1779-1838
I know the old hymns have largely fallen out of favor, and this one I’ve updated a little. There are some good choruses, but I wonder, in my dotage, if God is really worshiped by amplifiers cranked up to high and shows imitating Las Vegas or Hollywood. If smoke from God really filled a place instead of something generated by a machine, I wonder what the difference might be?