St. John's Day

Word supreme, before creation
Born of God eternally,
Who didst will for our salvation,
To be born on earth, and die;
Well Thy saints have kept their station,
Watching till Thine hour drew nigh.

Now 'tis come, and faith espies Thee;
Like an eaglet in the morn,
One in stedfast worship eyes Thee,
Thy belov'd, Thy latest born:
In Thy glory He descries Thee
Reigning from the tree of scorn.

He upon Thy bosom lying
Thy true tokens learn'd by heart;
And Thy dearest pledge in dying
Lord, Thou didst to him impart —
Shew'dst him how, all grace supplying,
Blood and water from Thee start.

He first, hoping and believing,
Did beside the grave adore;
Latest he, the warfare leaving,
Landed on the eternal shore;
And his witness we receiving
Own Thee Lord for evermore.

Much he ask'd in loving wonder,
On Thy bosom leaning, Lord!
In that secret place of thunder,
Answer kind didst Thou accord,
Wisdom for Thy Church to ponder
Till the day of dread award.

Lo! Heaven's doors lift up, revealing
How Thy judgments earthward move;
Scrolls unfolded, trumpets pealing,
Wine-cups from the wrath above,
Yet o'er all a soft Voice stealing —
" Little children, trust and love! "

Thee, the Almighty King eternal,
Father of the eternal Word;
Thee, the Father's Word supernal,
Thee, of both, the breath adored;
Heaven and earth, and realms infernal
Own, One glorious God and Lord. Amen.
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.