Your robe of glory fills your house,
your thunderous voice disturbs its base,
as seraphs sing they use their wing
to hide in awe their feet and face.
Holy, holy, the God of hosts,
whose glory from infinity
now fills the earth and shows the worth
of his most Holy Trinity.
I am undone! For now I stand
before the Word, my words unclean.
What can I give that I might live,
now I the Lord, the King, have seen?
But you yourself can take my guilt,
Your altar can for sin atone.
Your fire can cleanse, you word now sends
me out to speak for you alone.