From out the cloud of amber light,Borne on the whirlwind from the north,Four living creatures winged and brightBefore the prophet’s eyes came forth.
The voice of God was in the fourBeneath that awful crystal mist,And every wondrous form they woreForeshadowed an evangelist.
The lion-faced, he told abroadThe strength of love, the strength of faith;He showed th’almighty Son of God,The Man divine Who won by death.
O Lion of the royal tribe,Strong Son of God, and strong to save,All power and honor we ascribeTo Thee Who only makest brave.
For strength to love, for will to speak,For fiery crowns by martyrs won,For suffering patience, strong and meek,We praise Thee, Lord, and Thee alone.