Could all the powers of eloquence divine
But half the glories of my Lord display,
How I should wish those unknown powers were mine
To animate and raise the votive lay.

O could I rise, one happy minute rise!
And hear the music of the blissful choir,
Would not my heaven-enraptur’d mind despise
The sweetest notes that tune this feeble lyre.

Yet is the subject of their song the same,
Not angels know a nobler theme than mine;
Thy grace Emmanuel, bliss-inspiring name!
Awakes the strain to extasy divine.

That grace, which smiles approving on their lays,
Bends lower still and kindly deigns to own
A mortal’s wishes to attempt thy praise,
When humble love presents them at thy throne.

My Lord, my life, does not thy love inspire
The warmest highest wish this bosom knows?
O let that love employ this feeble lyre
Till with diviner force the passion glows!

Till (every mortal weakness left in dust)
Immortal life commences, then my tongue
To thee, dear object of my hope and trust,
With heaven’s full choir shall tune a nobler song.

Added by

Blessy Christlin


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