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Text: | I'll speak the honours of my King |
Author: | Watts |
1 I’ll speak the honours of my King.
His form divinely fair;
None of the sons of mortal race
May with the Lord compare.
2 Sweet is thy speech, and heavenly grace
Upon thy lips is shed;
Thy God with blessings infinite
Has crowned thy sacred head.
3 Gird on thy sword, victorious Prince,
Ride with majestic sway;
Thy terror shall strike through thy foes
And make the world obey.
4 Thy throne, O God, for ever stands;
Thy word of grace shall prove
A peaceful sceptre in thy hands
To rule thy saints by love.
5 Justice and truth attend thee still,
But mercy is thy choice;
And God, thy God, thy soul shall fill
With most peculiar joys.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | I'll speak the honours of my King |
Author: | Watts |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1844 |
Scripture: | |
Topic: | Offices and Characters of Christ |