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Daily Psalms.
“Then shall follow the Psalms in order as they are appointed.”
—Rubric.
When o'er God's awful Book I bend
Perusing it in peace and prayer,
Blest PARACLETE! Thine unction send
That faith may find my Saviour there;
And feel the love and light of sacred Story
Are but the token-gleams of His incarnate glory.
Perusing it in peace and prayer,
Blest PARACLETE! Thine unction send
That faith may find my Saviour there;
And feel the love and light of sacred Story
Are but the token-gleams of His incarnate glory.
But, though each page prove all-divine,
Profound as Truth's eternity,
And hence, as from a mental Shrine
Flow oracles which make us free,—
If one pure leaf may wield a master-spell,
Oh! is it not where most Emanuel's eye-beam fell?
Profound as Truth's eternity,
And hence, as from a mental Shrine
Flow oracles which make us free,—
If one pure leaf may wield a master-spell,
Oh! is it not where most Emanuel's eye-beam fell?
The golden eloquence of heaven
Falters before a theme, like this!—
That to the Saviour's heart were given
A healing balm and holy bliss,
Counsels of love, and consolations deep
When homeless here on earth, our burdens made Him weep!
Falters before a theme, like this!—
That to the Saviour's heart were given
A healing balm and holy bliss,
20
When homeless here on earth, our burdens made Him weep!
Not from Himself as God derived,
But, forth from David's harp He drew,
When Satan with His Manhood strived,—
Tones which declare how well He knew
That Laureate of the Holy Ghost, whose lyre
Anthems by God attuned enrapture and inspire.
But, forth from David's harp He drew,
When Satan with His Manhood strived,—
Tones which declare how well He knew
That Laureate of the Holy Ghost, whose lyre
Anthems by God attuned enrapture and inspire.
At His last feast of paschal love
Our Lord a Jewish hallel sung;
And when He awed the heavens above
While on th' almighty Cross He hung,
From Zion's bard he took that awful speech
Whose agonising depth no line of Thought can reach!
Our Lord a Jewish hallel sung;
And when He awed the heavens above
While on th' almighty Cross He hung,
From Zion's bard he took that awful speech
Whose agonising depth no line of Thought can reach!
Nor paused He here: that parting breath
Which breath'd on earth the grand farewell
When God-Man died th' atoning death
Which rescued Earth from hate and hell,—
Faith listens, while it heaves a hallow'd sigh
Breath'd out of David's soul, when Death seem'd drawing nigh.
Which breath'd on earth the grand farewell
When God-Man died th' atoning death
Which rescued Earth from hate and hell,—
Faith listens, while it heaves a hallow'd sigh
Breath'd out of David's soul, when Death seem'd drawing nigh.
Priceless and peerless hold we, then,
That page Messiah loved to read;
For, long as earth has suff'ring men
The Psalms reply to human need;
And by sweet touches of melodious grace
Thrill every spirit-chord which vibrates through our race!
That page Messiah loved to read;
For, long as earth has suff'ring men
The Psalms reply to human need;
And by sweet touches of melodious grace
Thrill every spirit-chord which vibrates through our race!
All passions, principles, and powers,
Motions and meanings of delight,
Which rule us in religious hours
At hymning morn, or holy night,
On land, or sea, when social, or alone,—
These Lyrics of the Lord for each adjust a tone.
Motions and meanings of delight,
Which rule us in religious hours
At hymning morn, or holy night,
On land, or sea, when social, or alone,—
These Lyrics of the Lord for each adjust a tone.
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A mystic paradise of truth
Martyrs and Saints of olden time
Saw in each page for age, or youth,
And caroll'd it with love sublime;
Nor can the tongues of man, or angel, count
The comforts which have flow'd from this celestial fount.
Martyrs and Saints of olden time
Saw in each page for age, or youth,
And caroll'd it with love sublime;
Nor can the tongues of man, or angel, count
The comforts which have flow'd from this celestial fount.
No sigh the laden heart hath heaved,
No tear a drooping eyelid shed,
No fearful pang our bosom grieved
When Life has ponder'd o'er the Dead,—
But in Christ's Manual can devotion find
Some echo of relief to suit the aching mind.
No tear a drooping eyelid shed,
No fearful pang our bosom grieved
When Life has ponder'd o'er the Dead,—
But in Christ's Manual can devotion find
Some echo of relief to suit the aching mind.
Kings, Priests, and Prophets, all may there
The perfect heart of Jesu prove,
And hear it God to man declare
With beating pulse of boundless love!—
Such are the Psalms; where all which Lyre can be,
Is married into Grace for immortality.
The perfect heart of Jesu prove,
And hear it God to man declare
With beating pulse of boundless love!—
Such are the Psalms; where all which Lyre can be,
Is married into Grace for immortality.
Poet of Heaven! High-Priest of song!
Type of the Lord, in truth and grace,
Oh! that to Saints might now belong
The faith and fervour of thy race;
Then would their lives be living psalms of love,
And choral Earth repeat the chanting Heavens above.
Type of the Lord, in truth and grace,
Oh! that to Saints might now belong
The faith and fervour of thy race;
Then would their lives be living psalms of love,
And choral Earth repeat the chanting Heavens above.
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