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Condescending grace.

Psa. 138:6.

When the Eternal bows the skies
To visit earthly things,
With scorn divine he turns his eyes
From towers of haughty kings.

He bids his aweful chariot roll
Far downward from the skies,
To visit every humble soul
With pleasure in his eyes.

Why should the Lord that reigns above
Disdain so lofty kings?
Say, Lord, and why such looks of love
Upon such worthless things?

Mortals, be dumb; what creature dares
Dispute his aweful will?
Ask no account of his affairs,
But tremble and be still.

Just like his nature is his grace,
All sovereign and all free;
Great God, how searchless are thy ways,
How deep thy judgments be!

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