Classic Poem

Now came the hour, th' important hour,
When Heav'n's eternal Son ,
(Who deign'd the fleshly form to wear,
And all our sins and troubles bear)
His sacred blood for man must pour,
By Satan's wiles undone.
O Thou ! all-hallow'd Spirit, hear !
Inspirer of the prophets old,
Who tun'd the royal David 's ear,
When thro' his breast sweet transports roll'd ;
Thou P ARACLETE divine, o'er-rule my humble lyre,
And touch a mortal breast with thy celestial fire ;
For all in vain
We wake the strain,
Our gratitude to prove
And sing M ESSIAH'S love,
Unless thy holy flame our frozen hearts inspire. —