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SermonIndex.net : Christian Books : CCIV SONG TO DAVID

The Treasury Of Sacred Song by Francis Turner Palgrave

CCIV SONG TO DAVID

He sang of GOD -- the mighty source

Of all things -- the stupendous force

On which all strength depends;

From Whose right arm, beneath Whose eyes,

All period, power, and enterprise

Commences, reigns, and ends.

Tell them, I AM, Jehovah said

To Moses; while earth heard in dread,

And, smitten to the heart,

At once above, beneath, around,

All Nature, without voice or sound,

Replied, O LORD, THOU ART.

The world, -- the clustering spheres, He made,

The glorious light, the soothing shade,

Dale, champaign, grove, and hill;

The multitudinous abyss,

Where Secrecy remains in bliss,

And Wisdom hides her skill.

The pillars of the LORD are seven,

Which stand from earth to topmost heaven;

His Wisdom drew the plan;

His Word accomplish'd the design,

From brightest gem to deepest mine;

From CHRIST enthroned, to Man.

For Adoration all the ranks

Of Angels yield eternal thanks,

And David in the midst;

With GOD's good poor, which, last and least

In man's esteem, Thou to Thy feast,

O blesséd Bridegroom, bid'st!

For Adoration, David's Psalms

Lift up the heart to deeds of alms;

And he, who kneels and chants,

Prevails his passions to control,

Finds meat and medicine to the soul,

Which for translation pants.

For Adoration, in the dome

Of CHRIST, the sparrows find a home;

And on His olives perch:

-- The swallow also dwells with thee,

O man of GOD's humility,

Within his Saviour's Church.

Sweet is the dew that falls betimes,

And drops upon the leafy limes --

Sweet, Hermon's fragrant air:

Sweet is the lily's silver bell,

And sweet the wakeful tapers' smell

That watch for early prayer.

Sweet the young nurse, with love intense,

Which smiles o'er sleeping innocence;

Sweet, when the lost arrive:

Sweet the musician's ardour beats,

While his vague mind's in quest of sweets,

The choicest flowers to hive.

Strong is the horse upon his speed;

Strong in pursuit the rapid glede ,

Which makes at once his game:

Strong the tall ostrich an the ground;

Strong through the turbulent profound

Shoots Xiphias to his aim.

Strong is the lion -- like a coal

His eyeball, -- like a bastion's mole

His chest against the foes:

Strong the gier-eagle on his sail;

Strong against tide the enormous whale

Emerges as he goes.

But stronger still, in earth and air

And in the sea, the man of prayer,

And far beneath the tide:

And in the seat to faith assign'd,

Where ask is have, where seek is find,

Where knock is open wide.

Precious the penitential tear;

And precious is the sigh sincere,

Acceptable to GOD:

And precious are the winning flowers,

In gladsome Israel's feast of bowers

Bound on the hallow'd sod.

Glorious the sun in mid career;

Glorious the assembled fires appear;

Glorious the cornet's train:

Glorious the trumpet and alarm;

Glorious the Almighty's stretch'd-out arm;

Glorious the enraptured main:

Glorious the northern lights a-stream;

Glorious the song, when GOD's the theme;

Glorious the thunder's roar:

Glorious Hosannah from the den;

Glorious the catholic Amen;

Glorious the martyr's gore:

Glorious, -- more glorious, -- is the crown

Of Him that brought salvation down,

By meekness call'd Thy Son;

Thou that stupendous truth believed; --

And now the matchless deed's achieved,

Determined, Dared, and Done.

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