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Rev. iv, 8.
“Which was, and is, and is to come."
Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Which wert, and art, and evermore shalt be.
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see,
Perfect in power, in love, and purity.
All Thy works shall praise Thy Name in earth, and sky, and sea;
Bp. Reginald Heber (1783-1826), 1827.
LYONS. 5.5.5. 6. D.
1. O WORSHIP the King, All glorious a - bove; O
Our Shield and De- fender, The An- cient of days, Pa - vil-ioned in splendor, And gird - ed with praise.
The Might and Mercy of God.
Ps. civ. 2 O tell of His might,
O sing of His grace, Whose robe is the light,
Whose canopy space; His chariots of wrath
FRANCIS JOSEPH HAYDN (1732-1809), 1770.
grate-ful - ly sing His power and His love;
The thunder-clouds form, And dark is His path
On the wings of the storm.
“Jesus, our King."
Your Master proclaim,
His wonderful Name;
Of Jesus extol;
And rules over all.
3 Thy bountiful care
What tongue can recite ? It breathes in the air,
It shines in the light, It streams from the hills,
It descends to the plain, And sweetly distils
In the dew and the rain.
2 God ruleth on high,
Almighty to save;
His presence we have.
His triumph shall sing,
To Jesus, our King.
4 Frail children of dust,
And feeble as frail, In Thee do we trust,
Nor find Thee to fail : Thy mercies how tender,
How firm to the end, Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend.
Sir Robert Grant (1788–1838), 1839. Ab.
3 “Salvation to God,
Who sits on the throne,”
And honor the Son:
The angels proclaim,
And worship the Lamb.
Нар - ру
“ Light of Light."
To Thy living waters lead me;
And with grace and mercy feed me;
Rich in fruits that Thou dost love. 3 Kindle Thou the sacrifice
That upon my lips is lying;
That, from every error flying,
That Thine altar doth not know. 4 Let me with my heart to-day,
Holy, holy, holy, singing,
All my soul to Thee up-springing, Have a foretaste inly given,
How they worship Thee in Heaven. 5 Rest in me and I in Thee,
Build a paradise within me; O reveal Thyself to me,
Blessed Love, who died'st to win me; Fed from Thine exhaustless urn,
Pure and bright my lamp shall burn. 6 Hence all care, all vanity,
For the day to God is holy: Come, thou glorious Majesty,
Deign to fill this temple lowly; Naught to-day my soul shall move, Simply resting in Thy love.
Rev. Benjamin Schmolke (1672–1737), 1794 Tr. by Miss Catherine Winkworth (1829–1878), 1858