Scripture Verse

Thou spakest in vision to Thy holy one, and saidst, I have laid help upon one that is mighty; I have exalted one chosen out of the people. Psalm 89:19


Words: From The Psal­ter (Pitts­burgh, Penn­syl­van­ia: Unit­ed Pres­by­ter­ian Board of Pub­li­ca­tion, 1912), num­ber 243.

Music: Jor­dan Jo­seph Barn­by, 1872 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Joseph Barnby (1838–1896)


In vi­sion to His saints God spake:
“From out the peo­ple one I take,
A migh­ty lead­er, true and brave,
Ordained, ex­alt­ed, strong to save.
My chos­en ser­vant I ap­point,
With ho­ly oil his head an­oint;
My hand with him shall still re­main,
My arm his strength shall well sus­tain.

“No ene­my shall him af­fright,
His ad­ver­sar­ies I will smite,
My faith­ful­ness to him will prove,
And ne­ver­more My grace re­move.
Yea, he shall tri­umph in My name,
And great shall be his pow­er and fame,
From sea to sea his migh­ty hand
Shall hold do­min­ion o’er the land.

“‘Thou art my Fa­ther,’ He shall cry,
‘My God, my rock of re­fuge high’;
My first­born Son shall He be owned,
Above the kings of earth en­throned.
For him My mer­cy shall en­dure,
My co­ve­nant with Him is sure;
His throne and race I will main­tain,
Forever, while the hea­vens re­main.

“Should sons of His My laws for­sake,
My just com­mands and sta­tut­es break,
Then, though My rod their sins re­prove,
My mer­cy I will not re­move.
Though they be chast­ened sore and tried,
My faith­ful­ness shall yet abide;
My plight­ed word I will not break,
Nor change the pro­mise that I spake.

My oath is stead­fast, ev­er sure,
My Ser­vant’s race shall still en­dure;
His throne for­ev­er firm shall stay
When sun and moon have passed away.

On Thine an­oint­ed wrath is poured
As if Thy co­ve­nant were ab­horred;
Thou hast pro­faned His king­ly crown,
His match­less strength is brok­en down.

He is re­proached and spoiled of all,
His ene­mies up­on Him fall;
His beau­ty is con­sumed away,
Forgotten is His king­ly sway.
Cut off in youth, His sac­red name
Is co­vered now with deep­est shame;
How long, O Lord, shall wrath abide?
Thy face for­ev­er wilt Thou hide?

Think on my life; O Lord, take thought;
Hast Thou cre­at­ed man for naught?
What man that lives has pow­er to save
His soul from death, and from the grave?
Where are Thy mer­cies which of old
Were in Thy pro­mis­es fore­told?
Remember, Lord, the bit­ter shame
Heaped on Thine own An­oint­ed’s name.

I sing of mer­cies that en­dure
Forever build­ed firm and sure,
Of faith­ful­ness that ne­ver dies,
Established change­less in the skies.
Blest be the Lord for­ev­er­more,
Whose pro­mise stands from days of yore.
His word is faith­ful now as then;
Blest be His name. Amen, Amen.