Creator of the World, to Thee

Creator of the world

to Thee

And end­less rest of joy be­longs;

And heav­en­ly choirs are ev­er free

To sing on high their fes­tal songs.

But we are fall­en crea­tures here

Where pain and sor­row dai­ly come;

And how can we in ex­ile drear

Sing out

as they

sweet songs of home?

O Fa­ther

who dost pro­mise still

That they who mourn shall bless­èd be

Grant us to weep for deeds of ill

That ban­ish us so long from Thee.

But weep­ing

grant us faith to rest

In hope up­on Thy lov­ing care;

Till Thou re­store us

with the blest

Their songs of praise in Heav’n to share.

To Fa­ther

Son and Ho­ly Ghost

The God whom Heav’n and earth ad­ore

From men and from the an­gel host

Be praise and glo­ry ev­er­more.