No words, O Lord, can tell the wonder of your love
1 No words, O Lord, can tell the wonder of your love,
nor music rise to match the angels'song above;
in prayer, we strive to speak the truest words we know,
in song, great music comes from hearts that overflow.
2 Through passing years God's people in this holy place
have sung to celebrate our Saviour's matchless grace,
each with the other joined in friendship and in creed,
each with his inward prayers of thankfulness or need.
3 And in this hallowed space, across these ancient stones,
what sounds of psalm and hymn have passed in glorious tones!
what full-voiced choirs in service high and anthems clear*
have brought to us the mystery of a higher sphere!
4 We your disciples walk where you, O Lord, have trod,
our human hand within the mighty hand of God;
now hear our voices lifted, Christ our Lord and King
as in exulting music we your praises sing.
Paul Wigmore
© Paul Wigmore / The Jubilate Group
*There let the pealing organ blow
To the full-voiced quire below
In service high, and anthems clear
As may with sweetness through mine ear
Dissolve me into ecstacies
And bring all heaven before mine eyes.
Milton: Comus