King of glory, King of peace, I will love Thee; And that love may never cease, I will move Thee. Thou hast granted my request, Thou hast heard me; Thou didst note my working breast, Thou hast spared me. Wherefore with my utmost art I will sing Thee, And the cream of all my heart I will bring Thee. Though my sins against me cried, Thou alone didst clear me; And alone, when they replied, Thou didst hear me. Seven whole days, not one in seven, I will praise Thee; In my heart, though not in Heaven, I can raise Thee. Small it is, in this poor sort To enroll Thee: E'en eternity's too short To extol Thee.