A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
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Praise.
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 | A memorial volume of sacred poetry |  |
Praise.
With th'angelic armies, we
Bow the head and bend the knee;
Ever singing praise to Thee,
Singing praise to Thee alone.
Round Thy throne when we appear,
Hear our mingled voices, hear,
Everlasting One!
Bow the head and bend the knee;
Ever singing praise to Thee,
Singing praise to Thee alone.
Round Thy throne when we appear,
Hear our mingled voices, hear,
Everlasting One!
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Thou art far beyond the reach
Of all thought, or song, or speech;
Yet 'tis thus we learn and teach
How to love Thee more and more.
'Tis a privilege high and great
To approach Thy holy seat,
Humbly to adore.
Of all thought, or song, or speech;
Yet 'tis thus we learn and teach
How to love Thee more and more.
'Tis a privilege high and great
To approach Thy holy seat,
Humbly to adore.
Thus adoring, we would try
(Feebly and unworthily)
From Thy glory-fount on high
Some faint rays of light to steal.
God and Father! grant the ray
To illume our earthly way,
And Thy laws reveal.
(Feebly and unworthily)
From Thy glory-fount on high
Some faint rays of light to steal.
God and Father! grant the ray
To illume our earthly way,
And Thy laws reveal.
| A memorial volume of sacred poetry | |