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I SWEET hymns shall be my chant and woven songs, | |
| For Thou art all for which my spirit longs— | |
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| To be within the shadow of Thy hand | |
| And all Thy mystery to understand. | |
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| The while Thy glory is upon my tongue, | 5 |
| My inmost heart what love of Thee is wrung. | |
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| So though Thy mighty marvels I proclaim, | |
| ’Tis songs of love wherewith I greet Thy name. | |
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II I have not seen Thee, yet I tell Thy praise, | |
| Nor known Thee, yet I image forth Thy ways. | 10 |
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| For by Thy seers’ and servants’ mystic speech | |
| Thou didst Thy sov’ran splendor darkly teach. | |
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| And from the grandeur of Thy work they drew | |
| The measure of Thy inner greatness too. | |
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| They told of Thee, but not as Thou must be, | 15 |
| Since from Thy work they tried to body Thee. | |
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| To countless visions did their pictures run, | |
| Behold through all the visions Thou art one. | |
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III In Thee old age and youth at once were drawn, | |
| The grey of eld, the flowing locks of dawn, | 20 |
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| The ancient Judge, the youthful Warrior, | |
| The Man of Battles, terrible in war, | |
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| The helmet of salvation on His head, | |
| And by His hand and arm the triumph led. | |
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| His head all shining with the dew of light, | 25 |
| His locks of dripping with the drops of night. | |
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IV I glorify Him, for He joys in me, | |
| My crown of beauty He shall ever be! | |
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| His head is like pure gold; His forehead’s flame | |
| Is graven glory of His holy name. | 30 |
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| And with that lovely diadem ’tis graced, | |
| The coronal His people there have placed. | |
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| His hair as on the head of youth is twined, | |
| In wealth of raven curls it flows behind. | |
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| His circlet is the home of righteousness; | 35 |
| Ah, may He love His highest rapture less! | |
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| And be His treasured people in His hand | |
| A diadem His kingly brow to band. | |
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| By Him they were uplifted, carried, crowned, | |
| Thus honored inasmuch as precious found. | 40 |
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| His glory is on me, and mine on Him, | |
| And when I call He is not far or dim. | |
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| Ruddy in red apparel, bright He glows | |
| When He from treading Edom’s wine-press goes. | |
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| Phylacteried the vision Moses viewed | 45 |
| The day he gazed on God’s similitude. | |
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| He loves His folk; the meek will glorify, | |
| And, shrined in prayer, draw their rapt reply. | |
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V Truth is Thy primal word; at Thy behest | |
| The generations pass—O and our quest | 50 |
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| For Thee, and set my host of songs on high, | |
| And let my psalmody come very nigh. | |
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| My praises as a coronal account, | |
| And let my prayer as Thine incense mount. | |
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| Deem precious unto Thee the poor man’s song, | 55 |
| As those that to Thine altar did belong. | |
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| Rise, O my blessing, to the Lord of birth, | |
| The breeding, quickening, righteous force of earth. | |
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| Do Thou receive it with acceptant nod, | |
| My choicest incense offered to my God. | 60 |
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| And let my meditation grateful be, | |
| For all my being is athirst for Thee. | |
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