Scripture Verse

In Thy presence is fullness of joy; at Thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. Psalm 16:11


George C. Martin (1844–1916)

Words: Anne Steele (1716–1778). Pub­lished post­hu­mous­ly in Mis­cel­la­ne­ous Piec­es in Verse and Prose, 1760, by Ca­leb Ev­ans (Lon­don: T. Ca­dell, T. Mills, T. Ev­ans, J. Buc­kland & J. John­son), num­ber 82: The love of Christ ex­cit­ing thank­ful de­vo­tion.

Music: King of Kings (Mar­tin) George C. Mar­tin (1844–1916) (🔊 pdf nwc).

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Steele (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),


O dearer to my thankful heart
Than all the circling sun surveys!
Thy presence only can impart
Light, peace, and gladness to my days.

Beneath Thy soul reviving ray,
E’en cold affliction’s wintery gloom
Shall brighten into vernal day,
And hopes and joys immortal bloom.

Vain world, be gone with all thy toys;
I have no room for trifles here:
My heart aspires to nobler joys;
Thy fairest glories disappear.

Bright realms of bliss, where Je­sus reigns,
My wish, my care, my hope invite:
Where raptured seraphs tune their strains
To themes of infinite delight.

See, Lord, Thy willing subject bows
Adoring low before Thy throne:
To Thee, I gladly pay my vows;
Thou art my sovereign, Thou alone.

Smile on my soul, and bid me sing,
In concert with the choir above,
The glories of my Sav­ior king,
The condescensions of His love.

Amazing love! that stooped so low,
To view with pity’s melting eye
A wretch deserving endless woe!
Amazing love! Did Je­sus die?

He died, to raise to life and joy
The vile, the guilty, the undone,
O let His praise my hours employ,
Till hours no more their circles run!

He died! Ye seraphs, tune your songs,
Resound, resound the Sav­ior’s name:
For naught below immortal tongues
Can ever reach the wondrous theme.