Lord, with Glowing Heart I’d Praise Thee

Lord, with glowing heart I’d praise Thee, [1]
For the bliss Thy love bestows,
For the pardoning grace that saves me,
And the peace that from it flows:
Help, O God, my weak endeavor;
This dull soul to rapture raise:
Thou must light the flame, or never
Can my love be warmed to praise.

Praise, my soul, the God that sought thee,
Wretched wanderer, far astray;
Found thee lost, and kindly brought thee
From the paths of death away;
Praise, with love’s devoutest feeling,
Him Who saw thy guilt-born fear,
And the light of hope revealing,
Bade the blood-stained cross appear.

Praise thy Savior God that drew thee
To that cross, new life to give,
Held a blood sealed pardon to thee,
Bade thee look to Him and live.
Praise the grace whose threats alarmed thee,
Roused thee from thy fatal ease;
Praise the grace whose promise warmed thee,
Praise the grace that whispered peace.

Lord, this bosom’s ardent feeling
Vainly would my lips express.
Low before Thy footstool kneeling,
Deign Thy suppliant’s prayer to bless:
Let Thy grace, my soul’s chief treasure,
Love’s pure flame within me raise;
And, since words can never measure,
Let my life show forth Thy praise.

Francis S. (Scott) Key was born to Mr. and Mrs. John Ross Key,8/1/1779 at Pipes Creek, Maryland.  He became a devout Christian and after at­tend­ing St. John’s Coll­ege (An­nap­o­lis) became also a dedicated lawyer.  His dedication to law brought him eventually to the position of Dis­trict At­torn­ey of Wash­ing­ton, DC and placed him where he penned the na­tion­al an­them.

His dedication to Christ lead him to be a ves­try­man of St. John’s Church and Christ Church in George­town, and to teach a Sun­day School class.  Francis helped or­gan­ize the Do­mes­tic and For­eign Mis­sion­ary So­ci­e­ty (1820).  He also served on the com­mit­tee pre­par­ing the new Pro­test­ant Epis­co­pal hym­nal (1823).

Many more know Key as the au­thor “The Star Span­gled Ban­ner,” than know him as a disciple of Jesus and the author of the above hymn.  Key died1/11/1843 at Bal­ti­more, Mar­y­land.

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[1] Penned in 1819; first printed inEpis­co­pa­li­anChurch Po­e­try (1823)

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John Henry Hopkins Jr. – birth, Oct. 28, 1820

We three kings of Orient are;
Bearing gifts we traverse afar,
Field and fountain, moor and mountain,
Following yonder star.

Refrain

O star of wonder, star of light,
Star with royal beauty bright,
Westward leading, still proceeding,
Guide us to thy perfect light.

Born a King on Bethlehem’s plain
Gold I bring to crown Him again,
King forever, ceasing never,
Over us all to reign.

Frankincense to offer have I;
Incense owns a Deity nigh;
Prayer and praising, voices raising,
Worshipping God on high.

Myrrh is mine, its bitter perfume
Breathes a life of gathering gloom;
Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding, dying,
Sealed in the stone cold tomb.

Glorious now behold Him arise;
King and God and sacrifice;
Alleluia, Alleluia,
Sounds through the earth and skies.

John Henry Hopkins Jr. was born this date, 10/28/1820 at Pittsburgh, PA.  He grad­u­at­ed twice (1839 BA, 1845 MA) from the Un­i­ver­si­ty of Ver­mont.  He was a re­port­er in New York Ci­ty but eventually enrolled at Gen­er­al The­o­log­ic­al Sem­in­ary grad­u­ating in 1850. He was that sem­in­ary’s first mu­sic teach­er but went on to minister in Trin­i­ty Church, Platts­burg, New York, and Christ Church, Will­iams­port, PA.  He wrote several other songs in addition to “We Three Kings” (done for a Christ­mas pa­geant). Hopkins, died 8/14/1891 at Hudson, NY.

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Christ, Commander

Before the fall of satanic force,

When lucifer fell from realms of right,

Christ was totally in charge, of course,

The Commander of pre-sunshine light.

 

When Eden and its surroundings greened,

Immediately, to the Master’s phrase.

From the Scriptures, it is easily gleaned,

Christ was there, in His Creative days.

 

When Christ, the Commoner, graced the stall,

The sheep, nor their shepherds understood,

That the coming of this Newborn, small,

Would be to all humanities good.

 

Many years there lived and labored hard,

The Carpenter of Nazareth town.

Learned the trade without quota or card,

Before He laid all the mallets down.

 

Christ the Compassionate, He became;

Easing the ill ones, touching the blind,

Going where mortals were halt or lame,

Leaving a trail of walkers behind.

 

Sinful men rejected His teaching.

They schemed, and connived and even lied.

Pilate’s water could do no bleaching,

When Jesus died: Christ the Crucified.

 

The grave was guarded.  The stone? Immense.

Even the Roman seal was in place.

Then Christ, the Conqueror, came from hence,

Vanquishing death, when met face to face.

 

He came, He left, He will soon appear,

Forever, to be in fullest charge!

Christ the Commander, without a fear,

Ruling then, the universe-at-large.

 

Commander, Creator, Commoner,

Carpenter, Compassionate, all five.

Crucified, and then death’s Conqueror,

Without which there’d be no hope alive.

 

Commander again as once before;

The difference?  The life He lived with man.

That Gift man commemorates of yore.

Praise Him, Laud Him, for this wondrous plan. –eab, 12/76

 

Written while pastor of Christ Church-Bible Methodist and Associate Director of Christ College and Christ Academy, Friendsville, TN. 

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Christmas Alphabet

Christmas is more than an attitude,

            It is an awesome, appreciated action.

Christmas is more than a beatitude,

            It is a bountiful baptism of Blessing.

Christmas is more than commerce,

            It is the Christ child, commencing.

Christmas is more than a diversion,

            It is a Divine, daring Donation.

Christmas is more than an event,

            It is the encouraging entry to Eternity.

Christmas is more than a folly,

            It is the final fulfillment of Fidelity.

Christmas is more than genteelment,

            It is the grand Goodness of glory.

Christmas is more than holly,

            It is a hallowed, Holy harmony.

Christmas is more than an incident,

            It is an including, impelling Invitation.

Christmas is more than jolliness,

            It is Joseph with Jesus, journeying.

Christmas is more than a kaleidoscope,

            It is the kindly, knowledgeable King.

Christmas is more than lovely,

            It is a lighting, lifting, life-Love.

Christmas is more than monumental,

            It is multitudes of millennia moving.

Christmas is more than a nicety,

            It is a need, now and never ending.

Christmas is more than official,

            It is One, omnipotent Offering.

Christmas is more than perennial,

            It is a precious, personal Presentation.

Christmas is more than quantity,

            It is the quiet quintessence of Quality.

Christmas is more than a roast-corn rope,

            It is the Right, revealed religiously.

Christmas is more than a sensation,

            It is Salvation for souls in sincerity.

Christmas is more than tinsel,

            It is Triumph, truly and totally.

Christmas is more than the unusual,

            It is the unprecedented, urgent Union.

Christmas is more than a vacation,

            It is a vicarious Victory of valuing.

Christmas is more than wanting,

            It is a wandering world wondering.

Christmas is more than a xylophone,

            It is a xiphod, xyster, xenium.

Christmas is more than yearning,

            It is the yielding of a yeanling, you.

Christmas is more than a zest zone,

            It is the zenith of zeal in Zion.

Christmas is more than an Alphabet,

            It is Alpha & Omega, the Beginning & the Ending.

                        – eab, 12/4&5/76

 

Penned while pastoring Christ Church and working with Christ College in Friendsville, Tennessee.

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