 | Devotions in the ancient way of offices |  |
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Thursday Lauds.
Hymn XVIII.
[VVith all the pow'rs my poor soul hath]
VVith all the pow'rs my poor soul hath,
Of humble love and loyal faith;
Thus low, my God, I bow to Thee,
VVhom too much love bow'd low'r for me.
Of humble love and loyal faith;
Thus low, my God, I bow to Thee,
VVhom too much love bow'd low'r for me.
Down busy sense, Discourses dy;
And all adore Faith's Mystery:
Faith is my skill, Faith can believe
As fast as Love new laws can give.
And all adore Faith's Mystery:
Faith is my skill, Faith can believe
As fast as Love new laws can give.
Faith is my ey, Faith strength affords,
To keep pace with those pow'rful words:
And words more sure, more sweet then they,
Love could not think, Truth could not say.
To keep pace with those pow'rful words:
And words more sure, more sweet then they,
Love could not think, Truth could not say.
O dear Memorial of that death,
VVhich still survives and gives us breath!
Live ever bread of Life, and be
My food, my joy, my all to me.
VVhich still survives and gives us breath!
Live ever bread of Life, and be
My food, my joy, my all to me.
Come glorious Lord, my hopes encrease;
And fill my portion in thy peace:
Come hidden life, and that long day
For which I languish, come away.
And fill my portion in thy peace:
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For which I languish, come away.
When this dry soul those eys shal see,
And drink the unseald source of Thee:
When glory's Sun faith's shade shal chase
And for thy veil, give me thy face.
And drink the unseald source of Thee:
When glory's Sun faith's shade shal chase
And for thy veil, give me thy face.
| Devotions in the ancient way of offices | |