JESUS.
PRELUDE.
I would sing Thy love, my Saviour,
O, how can I silent be!
Though more sweetly, more sublimely
Many touch the chords to Thee.
In thy mercy in abundance,
Not a stream but boundless main:
Let me but rehearse the riches
JESUS doth for worlds contain!
I.
EARTH’S CROWN.
Thorns had the Saviour of mankind
His only Crown while here below:
Could Earth no other garland find
With which to deck his holy brow?
Was he a King? yea; to his throne
Heaven, Earth, and Hell allegiance owe;
Nor glory his, nor power alone,—
What heart such depths of grief can know?
Should Earth, dear Lord, crown me with thorns,
Give strength to glory in the shame;
To feel that every thing adorns
My brow, if Jesus wore the same.
I now behold Him on a seat
Of majesty o’er angels raised;
The crowns of heaven laid at his feet,
His Holy Name by myriads praised.
And, Lord, among the crowns which heaven
Adoring, at thy footstool lays,
By contrite Earth may soon be given
A chaplet—not of shame, but praise.
For Thou hast crownèd her with flowers,
And, more than all, with saving love:
What debt so great can be as hers;
What diadem may worthy prove?
II.
“BEHOLD THE MAN.”
Jesus Christ is my Creator,—
He formed sea and earth and air;
Nature’s pillars stand unshaken
On his power and constant care.
By his fingers for a dwelling
Was heaven’s vault sublime upreared:
Jesus suffered when to save us
He as man on earth appeared.
Lofty Angels! God-like spirits,
Clad in robes of ‘living light’:
He who gave you all your glories,
Him you worship day and night,
Made his tent in human nature
That in Him should man confide:
Your Delight, your Source, and Centre
Died—for man a Ransom died.
Vast encircling Space! whose confines
Stretch beyond creation’s pole!
Worlds of magnitude appalling
In thee unobstructed roll:
He in whom thou art containèd,
Spread at first and peopled thee,
Lay, an infant, in the manger,
Died, a man, upon the tree.
Countless Stars! through darkness peering;
Silent sentinels of night!
Worlds are ye of radiant brightness—
Points to feeble human sight:
He who spake and ye were kindled,
And will be, when ye grow dim,
Sun of souls, and Noon of heaven—
Grief and death enshrouded HIM.
Planets! with the Earth concentric,
Speeding on your trackless ways,—
Speeding in unbroken order
From your distant primal days!
He whose arm put you in motion—
Who your orbits vast designed,
Here was born a helpless infant,
Here for sin his life resigned.
Sun! the unexhausted fountain,
Whence flow warmth and genial light,
By whom Day to us is given
Loaded with untold delight!
He who hath with glory charged thee
That we may not rudely gaze,
Was on Calvary obscured—
Well thou dark’nedst with amaze.
Moon! who star-attended glidest
Through the sky with queenly grace;
Shining now in placid splendour,
Veiling now with clouds thy face:
He who hides thee—brings light to thee
From that sun, whose Sun is He,
Was eclipsed,—his beams were clouded,
On the ignominious tree.
Thunder! who within thy cradle
Of the sable cloud dost rock:
Rolling through expanse of heaven,
Shaking earth with fearful shock!
He who overawes the nations,
In thy mighty noise confessed,
Groaned and sighed with troubled spirit,
By our guilt and sin oppressed.
Lightning wild! thy child the Thunder,
Thou dost wrap the world in fire:
Sodom perished by thee stricken,
Doomed by Heaven’s long-slumbering ire.
He who formed thee—could command thee
Earth to cleanse and man to slay,
Gave Himself an expiation—
Saved by death from Death his prey.
Tempests! who disclose the caverns,
Dungeons drear beneath the seas,
Toying with the proudest navies,
Hurling down the giant trees:
He who curbs your wildest fury,
Calms you like to infant’s breath,
As a lamb Himself surrendered,
Bowed his reverend head in death!
Peer of Angels! space outreaching.
Stars, sun, moon, thy grandeur show;
Thunder, lightning, earthquake, tempest,
Less in might sublime than THOU!
For thy welfare, haughty Rebel,
Thee from error back to bring,
Jesus meekly bore thine insults:
Weep—repent—believe—and sing!
III.
THE CONQUEROR.
From Edom whom see I returned
More beauteous than break of the dawn?
The foes He hath conquered and spurned
Who proudly against Him were drawn.
With blood his fair raiment is dyed,
How sharp are his arrows and sword:
The fame of his prowess be wide,
His name through the world be adored!
IV.
LOSS AND GAIN.
In Eden—Memory e’er will tell,
How honours thick as dew that fell
Were lost: alas, man’s crown!
On Calvary, did Mercy bring
More lofty honours—I will sing
The Victor’s high renown.
V.
“CHRIST AND HIM CRUCIFIED.”
Rough our way and dark the night,
Strong our foes but small our might,
Prone to droop our faithless mind,
Life before, but death behind:
Sing we as we journey on,
—“Christon Estaurōmenon!”[2]
Friends are few nor can they heal
Sorrows which we deepest feel;
And when needed most forsake:
Unto Jesus we’ll betake,
Breathing oft, while toiling on,
—“Christon Estaurōmenon!”
When of every joy bereft,
Nought but broken idols left,
Lone we lie upon the earth,
Strangers long to thought of mirth;
Then we’ll sigh though weeping on,
—“Christon Estaurōmenon!”
Bleeds our heart the world to see,
Chained by guilt in misery;
We would heal our brother’s woes,
Break his fetters, bind his foes:
We will cry, while passing on,
—“Christon Estaurōmenon!”
When our Home shall shine in sight,
When our fears are lost in light,
When we hear the summons given,
“Bring my way-worn ones to heaven!”
We will shout, while wafted on,
—“Christon Estaurōmenon!”
In that perfect world above,—
Perfect light and perfect love,
At HIS feet our crowns we’ll cast,
And while heaven itself shall last,
Swell the anthem ever on,
—“Christon Estaurōmenon!”
[2]“Christ Crucified;” Welsh, “Crist Croeshoeliedig.”
VI.
THE GOOD SHEPHERD.
(FOR CHILDREN.)
My gentle Lamb, O come to me!
The ravenous wolf lurks near thy path;
No fold is nigh, where wilt thou flee?
The desert wild no safety hath:
O come to me!
Young art thou, tender Lamb, but warm
My mantle round thee shall be pressed;
And in my bosom, safe from harm
Of storm or terror shalt thou rest.
O come to me!
And thou art feeble: I will find
Of richest milk to nourish thee,
And freshest herbs of sweetest kind,
Thy daily pasturage shall be.
O come to me!
Thou shalt to glades, where ripple by
Clear streams, where feed my lambkins, come;
And when the shades of eve are nigh,
I’ll bear thee safely to my home.
O come to me!
O, haste, my precious Lamb, to me:
Come prove me by my bleeding heart:
My Father too is seeking thee.
Nor shalt thou ever from us part.
Haste now to me!
VII.
A FRIEND IN JORDAN.
Who amid the swelling billows
Can sustain my sinking head?
None but that divine Redeemer,
Who upon the cross hath bled.
If He through the stormy current
O’er the wave my head will bear,
If a gracious look vouchsafe me,
I will praise Him even there.
VIII.
A ROCK FOR A FOUNDATION.
O seek a rock to build on,
My soul! wilt thou not prove
That strong and deep Foundation
Which Earth, nor Hell, can move?
How sweet in yonder River
That Rock beneath my feet,
When every doubt and terror
Shall on my spirit beat!
IX.
A ROCK HIGHER THAN I.
(MEASURE ALTERED.)
I turn when afflicted with grief
To the joy which thy presence bestows;
When my pain is deprived of relief,
And my heart well nigh sinks with its woes:
I cry from the ends of the earth,
Unto Thee, O my God, do I cry,
For help from the flood to come forth
To the Rock that is higher than I.
When foes to assault me unite,
As wild torrents when swollen with rain,
And hide from my spirit thy light,
Deriding my bitterest pain;
I call on the Father of love,
Who for sinners gave Jesus to die,
In mercy my feet to remove
To the Rock that is higher than I.
Amid Jordan’s boisterous stream,
When the roar of the tempest is high,
I’ll sing of his might to redeem,—
Of the Rock that is higher than I:
I’ll triumph o’er death and the grave,
The proud legions of darkness defy—
The foam my firm foot shall just lave
On the Rock that is higher than I.
When far o’er all grief I ascend
To the souls who survive every shock,
Whose path that sweet stream did attend
Which flowed forth from their famed smitten Rock:
With millions who sing grateful lays,
When their anthems encircle the sky,
My voice shall unite in the praise
For the Rock that is higher than I.
X.
“YET THERE IS ROOM.”
Cry, faithful messengers of God,
“Behold the great Redeemer’s blood;”
Urge unto Him all men to come,
For Jesus saith there yet is room.
Ye naked, poor, oppressed, appear,
Unto Messiah’s door draw near:
Obey the call, undoubting come,
For Jesus saith there yet is room.
Who doth on Jesus Christ believe,
That favoured soul shall ever live;
Shall taste below of joys to come,
And Jesus saith there yet is room.
XI.
“IT IS GOOD TO BE HERE.”
Here, behold the seat of mercy:
Here, from doubt and fear release:
Here a Refuge for the guilty:
Here are joy and health and peace:
Here a Covert near the Godhead,
Where the vile may make their nest;[3]
Justice smiling fond approval,
Honoured Law declares them blest.
[3]“Nyth,” a current figure in Welsh poetry.
XII.
HEAVENLY ADORATION.
Angelic throngs unnumbered,
As dawn’s bright drops of dew,
Present their crowns before HIM
With praises ever new:
But saints and angels blending
Their songs above the sun,
Can ne’er express the glories
Of God with man made one.