1 High on his everlasting throne
The King of saints his work surveys,
Marks the dear souls he calls his own,
And smiles on the peculiar race.
2 He rests well-pleas'd their toils to see
Beneath his easy yoke they move,
With all their heart and strength agree
In the sweet labour of his love.
3 See where the servants of their God,
A busy multitude, appear,
For Jesus day and night employ'd,
His heritage they toil to clear.
4 The love of Christ their hearts constrains,
And strengthens their unwearied hands,
They spend their sweat, and blood, and pains,
To cultivate Immanuel's lands.
5 Jesus their toil delighted sees,
Their industry vouchsafes to crown,
He kindly gives the wish'd increase,
And sends the promis'd blessing down:
6 The sap of life, the Spirit's powers,
He rains incessant from above,
He all his gracious fulness showers,
To perfect their great work of love.
7 O multiply thy sower’s seed,
And fruit we every hour shall bear,
Throughout the world thy gospel spread,
Thine everlasting truth declare;
8 We all in perfect love renew'd
Shall know the greatness of thy power,
Stand in the temple of our God
As pillars, and go out no more.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | High on his everlasting throne |
Meter: | L. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1790 |
Topic: | Consolation |