John Brownlie (trans.) · 105 of 130

IV: God, Thou art clothed with light

God, Thou art clothed with light, As with a garment fair; And, in Thy holy sight, The saints Thy beauty wear; The heavens, and all therein, express The glory of Thy holiness.

Give me a robe of light That I may walk with Thee; Bright as the stars are bright, Pure as their purity; Whose texture sin shall never stain, But undefiled for aye remain.

But can a sinner dare, In rags, and sore ashamed, Lift to his God the prayer Which now my lips have framed, While glowing seraphs fold their wings, And pour their sinless offerings?

O Christ, I lift mine eyes; Thy love for me I own; In Thy great sacrifice Abides my hope alone; The robe is mine, my soul to dress, Of everlasting righteousness.