From a very old American hymnal (title is worn off and no title page); from the Steece Collection at Olivet College. “Characters of Christ” Go, worship at Immanuel’s feet, See, in his face, what wonders meet! Earth is too narrow to express His worth, his glory, or his grace. The whole creation can afford But some faith shadows of my Lord; Nature, to make his beauties know, Must mingle colours, not her own. Is he compar’d to Wine or Bread? Dear Lord, our souls would thus be fed: That flesh, that dying blood of thine Is bread of life—is heav’nly wine. Is He a Tree? The world receives Salvation from his healing leaves: The righteous branch, that fruitful bough Is David’s root and offspring too. Is He a Rose? Not Sharon yeilds Such fragrancy in all her fields: Or, if the Lily he assume, The vallies bless the rich perfume. Is He a Vine? His heav’nly root Supplies the boughs with life and fruit: O, let a lasting union join My soul to Christ, the living Vine! Is He the Head? Each member lives, And owns the vital pow’rs he gives; The saints below, and saints above, Join’d by his Spirit and his love. Is He a Fountain? There I’ll bathe, And heal the plague of sin and death: These waters all my soul renew, And cleanse my spotted garments too. Is He a Fire? He’ll purge my dross: But the true gold sustains no loss: Like a refiner, shall he sit— And tread the refuse with his feet. Is He a Rock? How firm he proves! The Rock of Ages never moves: Yet the sweet streams, which from him flow, Attend us all the desert through. Is He a way? He leads to God— The path is drawn in lines of blood; There would I walk, with hope and zeal, Till I arrive a Zion’s hill. Is He a door? I’ll enter in; Behold the pastures large and green! A paradise—divinely fair; None but the sheep have freedom there. Is He design’d a Corner-Stone, For men to build their heav’n upon? I’ll make him my foundation too: Nor fear the plots of hell below. Is He a Temple? I adore Th’ indwelling majesty and pow’r; And still, to his most holy place, Where’er I pray, I’ll turn my face. Is He a Star? He breaks the night; Piercing the shades with dawning light: I know his glories from afar, I know the bright, the Morning Star. Is He a Sun? His beams are grace; His course is joy and righteousness: Nations rejoice, when he appears To chase their clouds, and dry their tears. O let me climb those higher skies, Where storms and darkness never rise! There he displays his pow’rs abroad, And shines, and reigns th’ Incarnate God. Nor earth, nor seas, nor sun, nor stars, Nor heav’n his full resemblance bears; His beauties we can never trace, Till we behold him face to face.
Posted on: Tue, 30 Jul 2013 14:55:49 +0000