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 Let endless honours crown his head;
Let ev'ry age his praises spread;
While we with chearful songs approve,
The condescensions of his love.
Text Information | |
---|---|
First Line: | The king of saints, how fair his face |
Title: | Christ and his Church |
Meter: | Long Metre |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1790 |
Topic: | Before Sermon |