And supplication.
W. C. Bryant.
O Thou, to whom, in ancient time,
The lyre of Hebrew bards was strung,
Whom kings adored in songs sublime,
And prophets praised with glowing tongue.
Not now, on Zion’s height alone,
The favoured worshipper may dwell,
Nor where, at sultry noon, Thy Son
Sat, weary, by the Patriarch’s well.