Classic Poem

God's book of dark and deep designs,
Clos'd with a seven-fold seal,
No man could loosen, nor read the lines,
His counsel to reveal.

But David's root, of Judah's tribe
The Lion, has prevail'd;
To take, and open, and describe
The sacred volume seal'd.

Seven seals to loose, the Lamb in view
Enthron'd, as slain before,
Presents seven eyes, seven horns, to shew
His wisdom and his pow'r.

The elders worship at his feet,
The church adores around,
With vials full of odours sweet,
And harps of joyful sound.

Those odours are the pray'rs of saints;
These harps the hymns they raise:
New to the Lamb they pay their rents,
New is their song of praise:

" Thou worthy art to take the book,
And open ev'ry seal,
Who to the Father's heart canst look,
And shew his secret will.

Since thou, for crimes of ours, was slain,
Of ours, and not thine own,
Thou worthy art to rise and reign
And fill thy Father's throne.

From ev'ry kindred, nation, tongue,
Thou broughtst thy chosen race;
And distant isles have seen and sung
The wonders of thy grace.

Thou hast redeem'd our souls with blood,
And set the captives free;
Hast made us kings and priests to God,
And we shall reign with thee:

Reign ev'n on earth; for, by thy word,
Our honour there is vast,
To rule us with a two-edg'd sword,
And judge the world at last. "