Poets' worship

GOD’S ETERNAL NOWStillness midst the ever-changing,Lord, my rest art Thou;So for me has dawned the morning,God’s eternal NOW.Now for me the day unsetting,Now the song begun;Now, the deep surpassing glory,Brighter than the sun.Hail! All hail! thou peaceful countryOf eternal calm;Summer land of milk and honey,Where the streams are balm.There the Lord my Shepherd leads me,Wheresoe’er He will;In the fresh green pastures feeds me,By the waters still.Well I know them, those still waters!Peace and rest at last;In their depths the quiet heavensTell the storms are past,Nought to mar the picture fair,Of the glory resting there.GERHARD TERSTEEGEN, 1697-1769

SATISFIEDDraw me to Thee, till far within Thy rest,In stillness of Thy peace, Thy voice I hear—For ever quieted upon Thy breast,So loved, so near.By mystery of Thy touch my spirit thrilled,O Magnet all Divine;The hunger of my soul for ever stilled,For Thou art mine.For me, O Lord, the world is all too small,For I have seen Thy face,Where Thine eternal love irradiates allWithin Thy secret place.And therefore from all others, from all else,Draw Thou my soul to TheeYea—Thou hast broken the enchanter’s spells,And I am free.Now in the haven of untroubled restI land at last,The hunger, and the thirst, and weary questFor ever past.There, Lord, to lose, in bliss of Thine embraceThe recreant will;There, in the radiance of Thy blessed Face,Be hushed and still;There, speechless at Thy pierced FeetSee none and nought beside,And know but this—that Thou art sweet,That I am satisfied.GERHARD TERSTEEGEN, 1697-1769

THE ROYAL PRIESTHOODThe race of God’s anointed priestsShall never pass away;Before His glorious face they stand,And serve Him night and day.Though reason raves, and unbeliefFlows on, a mighty hood,There are, and shall be till the end,The hidden priests of God.His chosen souls, their earthly drossConsumed in sacred fire,To God’s own heart their hearts ascendIn flame of deep desire;The incense of their worship fillsHis Temple’s holiest place;Their song with wonder fills the Heavens,The glad new song of grace.GERHARD TERSTEEGEN, 1697-1769

I THIRST, THOU WOUNDED LAMB OF GODI thirst, Thou wounded Lamb of God, To wash me in Thy cleansing blood;To dwell within Thy wounds; then pain Is sweet, and life or death is gain.Take my poor heart, and let it be Forever closed to all but Thee:Seal Thou my breast, and let me wear That pledge of love forever there.How blest are they who still abide Close shelter’d in Thy bleeding side! Who thence their life and strength derive, And by Thee move, and in Thee live.What are our works but sin and death, Till Thou thy quick’ning Spirit breathe? Thou giv’st the power thy grace to move;O wondrous grace! O boundless love!How can it be, Thou heavenly King, That Thou shouldst us to glory bring;Make slaves the partners of thy throne, Deck’d with a never-fading crown?Hence our hearts melt, our eyes o’erflow, Our words are lost, nor will we know, Nor will we think of aught beside,—My Lord. my Love is crucified.Attributed To JOHN WESLEY, 1703-1791

MAJESTY DIVINE!Full of glory, full of wonders,Majesty Divine!Mid Thine everlasting thundersHow Thy lightnings shine!Shoreless Ocean! who shall sound Thee?Thine own eternity is round Thee,Majesty Divine!Timeless, spaceless, single, lonely,Yet sublimely Three,Thou art grandly, always, onlyGod in Unity!Lone in grandeur, lone in glory,Who shall tell Thy wondrous story,Awful Trinity?Speechlessly, without beginning,Sun that never rose!Vast, adorable, and winning,Day that hath no close!Bliss from Thine own glory tasting,Everliving, everlasting,Life that never grows!Thine own Self for ever fillingWith self-kindled flame,In Thyself Thou art distillingUnctions without name!Without worshipping of creaturesWithout veiling of Thy features,God always the same!In Thy praise of Self untiringThy perfections shine;Self-sufficient, self-admiring,—Such life must be Thine;—Glorifying Self, yet blameless With a sanctity all shameless It is so divine!‘Mid Thine uncreated morning,Like a trembling starI behold creation’s dawningGlimmering from afar;Nothing giving, nothing taking,Nothing changing, nothing breaking,Waiting at time’s bar!I with life and love diurnalSee myself in Thee,All embalmed in love eternal,Floating in Thy sea:‘Mid Thine uncreated whitenessI behold Thy glory’s brightnessFeed itself on me.Splendours upon splendours beamingChange and intertwine;Glories over glories streamingAll translucent shine!Blessings, praises adorationsGreet Thee from the trembling nationsMajesty Divine!FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER, 1814-1863

LOVE’S IMMENSITYO past and gone!How great is God! how small am I!A mote in the illimitable sky,Amidst the glory deep, and wide, and highOf Heaven’s unclouded sun.There to forget myself for evermore;Lost, swallowed up in Love’s immensity,The sea that knows no sounding and no shore,God only there, not I.More near than I unto myself can be,Art Thou to me;So have I lost myself in finding Thee, Have lost myself for ever, O my Sun! The boundless Heaven of Thine eternal love Around me, and beneath me, and above;In glory of that golden dayThe former things are passed away-I, past and gone.GERHARD TERSTEEGEN, 1697-1769Tr. Unknown

HIDDEN IN GOD’S HEARTHow good it is, when weaned from all beside,With God alone the soul is satisfied,Deep hidden in His heart!How good it is, redeemed, and washed, and shriven,To dwell, a cloistered soul, with Christ in heaven,Joined, never more to part!How good the heart’s still chamber thus to closeOn all but God alone—There in the sweetness of His love repose,His love unknown!All else for ever lost—forgotten allThat else can be;In rapture undisturbed, O Lord, to fallAnd worship Thee.No place, no time, ‘neath those eternal skies—How still, how sweet, and how surpassing fair That solitude in glades of Paradise, And, as in olden days, God walking there.I hear His voice amidst the stillness blest,And care and fear are past—I lay me down within His arms to restFrom all my works at last.How good it is when from the distant land,From lonely wanderings, and from weary ways,The soul hath reached at last the golden strand,The Gates of Praise!There, where the tide of endless love flows free,There, in the sweet and glad eternity, The still, unfading Now.Ere yet the days and nights of earth are o’er, Begun the day that is for evermore—Such rest art Thou!GERHARD TERSTEEGEN, 1697-1769

THE BLESSED JOURNEYLet Him lead thee blindfold onwards,Love needs not to know;Children whom the Father leadethAsk not where they go. Though the path be all unknown, Over moors and mountains lone.Give no ear to reason’s questions;Let the blind man holdThat the sun is but a fableMen believed of old.At the breast the babe will grow;Whence the milk he need not know.GERHARD TERSTEEGEN, 1697-1769

SOMETIMES A LIGHT SURPRISESSometimes a light surprisesThe Christian while he sings;It is the Lord, who risesWith healing in His wings:When comforts are declining,He grants the soul againA season of clear shining,To cheer it after rain.In holy contemplation,We sweetly then pursueThe theme of God’s salvation,And find it ever new:Set free from present sorrow,We cheerfully can say,“E’en let the unknown morrowBring with it what it may.”It can bring with it nothing,But He will bear us through;Who gives the lilies clothing,Will clothe His people too:Beneath the spreading heavens,No creature but is fed;And He who feeds the ravensWill give His children bread.WILLIAM COWPER, 1731-1800

THE GREATNESS OF GODO Majesty unspeakable and dread!Wert Thou less mighty than Thou art,Thou wert, O Lord! too great for our belief,Too little for our heart.Thy greatness would seem monstrous by the sideOf creatures frail and undivine;Yet they would have a greatness of their ownFree and apart from Thine.Such grandeur were but a created thing,A spectre, terror, and a grief,Out of all keeping with a world so calm,Oppressing our belief.But greatness, which is infinite makes roomFor all things in its lap to lie;We should be crushed by a magnificenceShort of infinity.It would outgrow us from the face of things,Still prospering as we decayed,And, like a tyrannous rival, it would feedUpon the wrecks it made.But what is infinite must be a home,A shelter for the meanest life,Where it is free to reach its greatest growthFar from the touch of strife.We share in what is infinite: ‘tis ours,For we and it alike are Thine;What I enjoy, great God! by right of TheeIs more than doubly mine.Thus doth Thy hospitable greatness lieOutside us like a boundless sea;We cannot lose ourselves where all is home,Nor drift away from Thee.Out on that sea we are in harbour still,And scarce advert to winds and tides,Like ships that ride at anchor, with the wavesFlapping against their sides.Thus doth Thy grandeur make us grand ourselves;‘Tis goodness bids us fear;Thy greatness makes us brave as children are,When those they love are near.Great God, our lowliness takes heart to playBeneath the shadow of Thy state;The only comfort of our littlenessIs that Thou art so great.Then on Thy grandeur I will lay me down;Already life is heaven for me;No cradled child more softly lies than I,—Come soon, Eternity!FREDERICK WILLIAM FABER, 1814-1863