 | The Choir and The Oratory |  |
68
THE KING OF GLORY.
“Thou art the King of Glory, O Christ.”
Thou art the King of Glory, blessed Lord!
The Father's everlasting Son;
Eternally the Co-existent Word.
And now, for victories won
In human flesh, Thee all the Heavens adore,
Who at the Father's right-hand reignest evermore.
The Father's everlasting Son;
Eternally the Co-existent Word.
And now, for victories won
In human flesh, Thee all the Heavens adore,
Who at the Father's right-hand reignest evermore.
All power in heaven and earth Thou wieldest there.
The Lord of Hades and of Death,
The keys of that dark empire Thou dost bear.
O'er all things that have breath,
Thy rule extends, by Hell in vain opposed.
Thou openest, none can shut; nor force what Thou hast closed.
The Lord of Hades and of Death,
The keys of that dark empire Thou dost bear.
O'er all things that have breath,
Thy rule extends, by Hell in vain opposed.
Thou openest, none can shut; nor force what Thou hast closed.
69
Not yet are all things put beneath Thy feet:
Not yet the kingdoms of this world
Are Thine: nor yet, consummate his defeat,
The Prince of darkness hurled
Down into hell's unfathomable void;
Nor Death, man's final foe, with Death's dark King, destroyed.
Not yet the kingdoms of this world
Are Thine: nor yet, consummate his defeat,
The Prince of darkness hurled
Down into hell's unfathomable void;
Nor Death, man's final foe, with Death's dark King, destroyed.
But Heaven, and Earth, and Hell, or with glad zeal
Or blind concurrence, work Thy will.
The day that shall the perfect scheme reveal,
And all Thy word fulfil,
Is drawing on; and earth is ripening fast,
As for the sickle. Soon shall sound that signal-blast.
Or blind concurrence, work Thy will.
The day that shall the perfect scheme reveal,
And all Thy word fulfil,
Is drawing on; and earth is ripening fast,
As for the sickle. Soon shall sound that signal-blast.
We know that Thou art coming, Mighty Lord,
To be the Judge of quick and dead;
To give thy faithful servants their reward;
To crush the serpent's head.
Lord, in thy merits and thy grace unbounded
I put my trust. Oh, let me never be confounded!
To be the Judge of quick and dead;
To give thy faithful servants their reward;
To crush the serpent's head.
Lord, in thy merits and thy grace unbounded
I put my trust. Oh, let me never be confounded!
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