Dr. Watts's Imitation of the Psalms of David ‎#99b

99b. The King of saints, how fair his face

1 The King of saints, how fair his face,
Adorn'd with majesty and grace!
He comes with blessings from above,
And wins the nations to his love.

2 At his right hand our eyes behold
The queen array'd in purest gold;
The world admires her heav'nly dress,
Her robe of joy and righteousness.

3 He forms her beauties like his own;
He calls and seats her near his throne:
Fair stranger, let thine heart forget
The Idols of thy native state.

4 So shall the King the more rejoice
In thee, the fav'rite of his choice;
Let him be lov'd, and yet ador'd,
For he's thy Maker and thy Lord.

5 O happy hour, when thou shalt rise
To his fair palace in the skies,
And all thy sons (a num'rous train)
Each like a prince in glory reign.

6 Let endless honors crown his head;
Let ev'ry age his praises spread;
While we with cheerful songs approve
The condescensions of his love.

Text Information

• First Line: The King of saints, how fair his face
• Meter: L. M.
• Language: English
• Publication Date: 1790
• Scripture:
  Psalm 45
• Notes: Now Public Domain. Part 2

Tune Information

(No tune information)