Above yon clear blue sky,
Beyond our feeble sight,
The God of glory dwells on high
In everlasting light.
Around His glorious throne
The holy angels stand;
In songs of praise their King they own,
Or fly at His command.

And we may praise Him, too,
And serve Him here below;
He stoops to mark what children do,
Their inmost thoughts to know;
And though He reigns above,
Where angels ceaseless praise,
He will accept our humble love,
And lead us in His ways.

O may we humbly seek
To do His holy will,
And try, with thankful hearts and meek,
To sing His praises still;
And then for Jesus’ sake,
Who came for us to die,
Our happy spirits He will take
To praise Him in the sky.