From The North Clothed In Gold
Pantokrator
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The noise of his voice!
My heart trembleth
It is moved from its place
The lightning is his servant
Sent to the ends of the earth
After it the thunder
Merely a whisper from him
The beasts remains in the dens of the earth
By the breath of God frost is given
Touching the almighty
We can not find him out
Out of the south with the whirlwind
Out of the north, with the cold
Out of the north, clothed in gold
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We can not find him out
In radiance of gold doeth God appear
With God is terrible majesty
Men do therefore fear him
Will he esteem thy riches?
No, not thy gold
Thy power is nothing to him
Anger him not
All the treasures of Havilah could not deliver you
You can not pay the price for your soul!
Out of the north, with the cold
Out of the north, clothed in gold