A SONG OF THE TEMPLE
“In His Temple doth every one speak of His glory.”—Ps. xxix. 9.
120R. Rolle, † 1349.
tr., Emma Frances Bevan, 1899
In Thy tabernacle, Lord, I offer Sacrifice of psalmody and song— Thine uncounted mercies there recalling, Praising Thee with music sweet and strong. | With a marvellous, a mighty gladness, For the love of Christ is shed abroad In the soul that is His holy temple, And she singeth therefore unto God. | She ascends aloft to join the singing, Heard afar from God’s Jerusalem—22Neh. xii. 43. Blessed music of the saints she heareth, And adoring singeth she with them. | None can know though skilled in learning ancient, What the sweetness of that song may be; Till he know the glory and the gladness, There the blessed Face of God to see. | Lord, to Thee my heart is ever yearning, In this absence seeking still Thy Face; Blessed hour when I shall find!—adoring In the glory of Thy holy place! | |