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1 I'll speak the Honorus of my King,
His Form divinely fair;
None of his Sons of mortal Race
May with the Lord compare.
2 Sweet is thy Speech, and heav'nly Grace
Upon thy Lips is shed;
Thy GOD, with Blessings infinite,
Hath crown'd thy sacred Head.
3 Gird on thy Sword, victorious Prince,
Ride with majestic Sway;
Thy Terror shall strike through thy foes,
And make the World obey.
4 Thy Throne, O GOD, for ever stands;
Thy Word of Grace shall prove
A peaceful Scepter in thy Hands,
To rule the Saints by Love.
5 Justice and Truth attend thee still,
But Mercy is thy choice;
And GOD, thy GOD, thy Soul shall fill
With most peculiar Joys.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | I'll speak the Honours of my King |
Meter: | Common Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1740 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | Christ: his personal glories and government; Christ: the King and the Church his Spouse; Church: its beauty(10 more...) |