Coming to the King

I came from very far to see The King of Salem, for I had been told Of glory and of wisdom manyfold, And condescension infinite and free. Now could I rest, when I had heard his fame, In that dark lonely land of death, from whence I came?

I came (but not like Sheba’s queen), alone! No stately train, no costly gifts to bring; No friend at court, save One the King! I had requests to spread before His throne, And I had questions none could solve for me, Of import deep, and full of mystery.

I came and communed with that mighty King And told Him all my heart, I cannot say In mortal ear what communings were they But wouldst thou know, So too, and meekly bring All that is in thine heart and thou shalt hear His voice of love and power His answers sweet and clear

O happy end of every weary guest! He told me all I needed graciously: — Enough for guidance, and for victory O’er doubts and fears enough for quiet rest, And when some veiled response I could not read It was not hid from Him, this was enough indeed

His wisdom and His glories passed before My wondering eyes in gradual revelation The house that He had built its strong foundation Its living stones and, brightening more and more For glimpses of that palace far away, Where all his loyal ones Shall dwell with Him for aye.

True the report that reached my far-off land Of all His wisdom and transcendent fame, Yet I believed not until I came Bowed to the dust till raised by royal hand The half was never told by mortal word, My King exceeded all the fame that I had heard

Oh happy are His servants! happy they Who stand continually before His face, Ready to do His will of wisest grace! My King! is mine such blessedness to-day? For I too hear Thy wisdom line by line, Thy ever brightening words in holy radiance shine

Oh, blessed be the Lord they God who sat Our King upon His throne Divine delight In the Beloved crowning Thee with might Honour and majesty supreme and yet The strange and Godlike secret opening thus — The Kingship of His Christ ordained through love to us!

What shall I render to my glorious King? I have but that which I receive from Thee And what I give, Thou givest back to me, Transmuted by Thy touch, each worthless thing Changed to the preciousness of gem or gold, And by thy blessing multiplied a thousand fold

All my desire Thou grantest whatsoer I ask! Was ever mythic tale or dream so bold as this reality, This stream of boundless blessings flowing full and free? Yet more than I have thought or asked of Thee Out of Thy royal bounty still Thou givest me.

Now — I will turn to my own land and tell, What I myself have seen and heard of Thee, And give Thine own sweet message, “Come and see” And yet in heart and mind for ever dwell With Thee, my King of Peace, in loyal rest, Within the fair pavilion of Thy presence blest.

J R HAVERGAL

O Saviour, precious Saviour,
Whom yet unseen we love,
O Name of might and favour,
All other names above!
We worship Thee, we bless Thee
To Thee alone we sing
We praise Thee, and confess Thee
Our holy Lord and King

In Thee all fulness dwelleth,
All grace and power divine,
The glory that excelleth,
O Son of God, is Thine!
We worship Thee, we bless Thee
To Thee alone we sing,
We praise Thee and confess Thee,
Our glorious Lord and King

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