Lord, what is man, lost man,
That Thou shouldst be so mindful of him?
That the Son of God forsook his glory, His abode,
To become a poor, tormented man!
The Deity was shrunk into a span,
And that for me, O wound'rous love, for me.
Reveal, ye glorious spirits, when ye knew
The way the Son of God took to renew lost man,
Your vacant places to supply;
Blest spirits tell,
Which did excel,
Which was more prevalent,
Your joy or your astonishment,
That man should be assum'd into the Deity,
That for a worm a God should die.

Oh! for a quill, drawn from your wing
To write the praises of th'Eternal Love;
Oh! for a voice like yours to sing
That anthem here, which once you sung above.

Hallelujah!