We live in a computer age;
By pressing the right key
A wealth of information can
Be stored in memory.
Another button, disk, or key,
Each program will recall,
Unless, alas, something has failed,
And we have lost it all!
We sputter in frustration then
And readily concede
The best of man's inventions here
Is limited indeed.
I am so glad our [Elohim] above
Has perfect memory;
Computers that could match His skill
Will never, never, be.
He knows the hairs upon each head,
Throughout the whole wide world;
He counts by name each flaming star
In heaven's vastness hurled.
Each blade of grass, each grain of sand,
Each creature large or small
Proclaim the great infinitude
Of Him who made it all.
Each word of deed, each smile or tear,
The thoughts of ev'ry heart
Are known and understood by Him.
My [Yah], how great Thou art!