James Merrick Psalm 24

James Merrick Psalm 24

Earth, big with empires, to thy reign
 * Submits, great God, its wide domain;

Whate'er this orb's vast bounds confine,
 * By just possession, Lord, is thine:

That orb amid the wat'ry waste
 * Thy hands, best Architect, have plac'd,

And bid th'unfathomable deep
 * Beneath its firm foundations sleep.

Lord, who shall to thy hill ascend?
 * Who suppliant at thine altars bend,

Then joyful find a sure abode,
 * And own the presence of his God?

Whose hands and heart from guilt are free,
 * Who ne'er to idols bow'd the knee,

Nor, studious of deceit, would try
 * By oaths to consecrate a lie.

On such th'Almighty from above
 * Shall heap the blessings of his love,

And, purg'd from sin's transmissive stain,
 * Admit them to his sacred fane.

Such only form the chosen choir,
 * Whose feet, with licens'd step, aspire

To visit Sion's blest abode;
 * Who seek the face of Jacob's God.

Lift, lift your heads, each hallow'd gate,
 * Aloft, with sudden spring, your weight,

Ye everlasting portals, rear;
 * Behold the King of glory near!

And who this King of glory? say,
 * That Lord who bears th'eternal sway,

Who, cloth'd with strength, to war descends,
 * And conquest on his sword attends.

Lift, lift your heads, each hallow'd gate,
 * Aloft, with sudden spring, your weight,

Ye everlasting portals, rear;
 * Behold the King of glory near!

And who this King of glory? say,
 * The God, whom Heav'n's high hosts obey:

In him that King of glory view,
 * And yield to him the homage due.