Ascending to worship the LORD high and pure,
my heart must be lowly, God will not endure
the proud and the haughty; but he will receive
the humble, the rev’rent, who truly believe.
God’s wisdom is vast and his words I will trust,
and when I am puzzled, remember I’m dust,
created to know God and live to his praise,
to pray, but not bitterly question his ways.
Ascending to worship, my soul I have stilled,
I make no demands, but I trust, – God has willed
great good, and my hope I have set on his grace,
in peace now I enter the holiest place.
And so I will worship and make my request,
and plead for his glory, and ask to be blessed.
I’ll praise him in wonder, and tremble with shame,
– for only the contrite his mercy can claim.
Tune: 11 11 11 11