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“Behold the Man.”

Jesus Christ is my Creator

Translator: Joseph Morris (1854)
Published in 1 hymnal

Full Text

Jesus Christ is my Creator,—
He formed sea and earth and air;
Nature’s pillars stand unshaken
On his power and constant care.
By his fingers for a dwelling
Was heaven’s vault sublime upreared:
Jesus suffered when to save us
He as man on earth appeared.

Lofty Angels! God-like spirits,
Clad in robes of ‘living light’:
He who gave you all your glories,
Him you worship day and night,
Made his tent in human nature
That in Him should man confide:
Your Delight, your Source, and Centre
Died—for man a Ransom died.

Vast encircling Space! whose confines
Stretch beyond creation’s pole!
Worlds of magnitude appalling
In thee unobstructed roll:
He in whom thou art containèd,
Spread at first and peopled thee,
Lay, an infant, in the manger,
Died, a man, upon the tree.

Countless Stars! through darkness peering;
Silent sentinels of night!
Worlds are ye of radiant brightness—
Points to feeble human sight:
He who spake and ye were kindled,
And will be, when ye grow dim,
Sun of souls, and Noon of heaven—
Grief and death enshrouded HIM.

Planets! with the Earth concentric,
Speeding on your trackless ways,—
Speeding in unbroken order
From your distant primal days!
He whose arm put you in motion—
Who your orbits vast designed,
Here was born a helpless infant,
Here for sin his life resigned.

Sun! the unexhausted fountain,
Whence flow warmth and genial light,
By whom Day to us is given
Loaded with untold delight!
He who hath with glory charged thee
That we may not rudely gaze,
Was on Calvary obscured—
Well thou dark’nedst with amaze.

Moon! who star-attended glidest
Through the sky with queenly grace;
Shining now in placid splendour,
Veiling now with clouds thy face:
He who hides thee—brings light to thee
From that sun, whose Sun is He,
Was eclipsed,—his beams were clouded,
On the ignominious tree.

Thunder! who within thy cradle
Of the sable cloud dost rock:
Rolling through expanse of heaven,
Shaking earth with fearful shock!
He who overawes the nations,
In thy mighty noise confessed,
Groaned and sighed with troubled spirit,
By our guilt and sin oppressed.

Lightning wild! thy child the Thunder,
Thou dost wrap the world in fire:
Sodom perished by thee stricken,
Doomed by Heaven’s long-slumbering ire.
He who formed thee—could command thee
Earth to cleanse and man to slay,
Gave Himself an expiation—
Saved by death from Death his prey.

Tempests! who disclose the caverns,
Dungeons drear beneath the seas,
Toying with the proudest navies,
Hurling down the giant trees:
He who curbs your wildest fury,
Calms you like to infant’s breath,
As a lamb Himself surrendered,
Bowed his reverend head in death!

Peer of Angels! space outreaching.
Stars, sun, moon, thy grandeur show;
Thunder, lightning, earthquake, tempest,
Less in might sublime than THOU!
For thy welfare, haughty Rebel,
Thee from error back to bring,
Jesus meekly bore thine insults:
Weep—repent—believe—and sing!

Favorite Welsh Hymns, 1854

Translator: Joseph Morris

(no biographical information available about Joseph Morris.) Go to person page >

Text Information

First Line: Jesus Christ is my Creator
Title: “Behold the Man.”
Translator: Joseph Morris (1854)
Language: English
Publication Date: 1854
Copyright: This text in in the public domain in the United States because it was published before 1923.
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