Saturday Morning Poetry
This morning I read a few hymns. Not sang, read. I felt encouraged. Here’s one I quite liked. I recommend reading in silence with a lit candle and cup of tea. Maybe you will be encouraged too.
The Church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ, her Lord;
She is his new creation by water and the Word.
From heav’n he came and sought her to be his holy bride;
With his own blood he bought her, and for her life he died.
Elect from ev’ry nation, yet one o’er all the earth;
Her charter of salvation: one Lord, one faith, one birth;
One holy name she blesses, partakes one holy food,
And to one hope she presses, with eve’y grace endued.
Though with a scornful wonder men see her sore oppressed,
By schisms rent asunder, by heresies distressed;
Yet saints their watch are keeping; their cry goes up, “How long?”
And soon the night of weeping shall be the morn of song.
‘Mid toil and tribulation, and tumult of her war,
She waits the consummation of peace forevermore;
Till with the vision glorious her longing eyes are blest,
And the great Church victorious shall be the Church at rest.
Yet she on earth hath union with God, the Three in One,
And mystic sweet communion with those whose rest is won.
O happy ones and holy! Lord, give us grace that we
Like them, the meek and lowly, on high may dwell with thee.
Samuel John Stone, 1866