The Donkey – G.K Chesterton

When fishes flew and forests walked 
And figs grew upon thorn, 
Some moment when the moon was blood 
Then surely I was born; 

With monstrous head and sickening cry 
And ears like errant wings, 
The devil’s walking parody 
On all four-footed things. 

The tattered outlaw of the earth, 
Of ancient crooked will; 
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb, 
I keep my secret still. 

Fools! For I also had my hour; 
One far fierce hour and sweet: 
There was a shout about my ears, 
And palms before my feet. 

Let Us With A Gladsome Mind

Let us, with a gladsome mind,
Praise the Lord, for He is kind.

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For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.

Let us blaze His Name abroad,
For of gods He is the God.

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He with all commanding might
Filled the new made world with light.

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He hath, with a piteous eye,
Looked upon our misery.

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He the golden tressèd sun
Caused all day his course to run.

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Th’horned moon to shine by night;
’Mid her spangled sisters bright.

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All things living He doth feed,
His full hand supplies their need.

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Let us, with a gladsome mind,
Praise the Lord, for He is kind.

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He Who Would Valiant Be

Who would true valour see,
Let him come hither;
One here will constant be,
Come wind, come weather
There’s no discouragement
Shall make him once relent
His first avowed intent
To be a pilgrim.

Whoso beset him round
With dismal stories
Do but themselves confound;
His strength the more is.
No lion can him fright,
He’ll with a giant fight,
He will have a right
To be a pilgrim.

Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit,
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He’ll fear not what men say,
He’ll labor night and day
To be a pilgrim.

The God of Love My Shepherd Is

The God of love my Shepherd is,
And He that doth me feed;
While He is mine and I am His,
What can I want or need?

He leads me to the tender grass,
Where I both feed and rest;
Then to the streams that gently pass:
In both I have the best.

Or if I stray, He doth convert,
And bring my mind in frame,
And all this not for my desert,
But for His holy Name.

Yea, in death’s shady black abode
Well may I walk, not fear;
For Thou art with me, and Thy rod
To guard, Thy staff to bear.

Surely Thy sweet and wondrous love
Shall measure all my days;
And as it never shall remove
So neither shall my praise.

My God, How Wonderful Thou Art

My God, how wonderful Thou art,
Thy majesty, how bright;
How beautiful Thy mercy seat
In depths of burning light!

How dread are Thy eternal years,
O everlasting Lord,
By prostrate spirits day and night
Incessantly adored!

How wonderful, how beautiful,
The sight of Thee must be;
Thy endless wisdom, boundless power,
And glorious purity!

O how I fear Thee, living God,
With deep and tender fear;
And worship Thee with trembling hope,
And penitential tears!

Yet, I may love Thee, too, O Lord,
Almighty as Thou art;
For Thou hast stooped to ask of me
The love of my poor heart!

No earthly father loves like Thee,
No mother, e’er so mild,
Bears and forbears as Thou hast done,
With me, Thy sinful child.

Father of Jesus, love’s Reward!
What rapture it will be
Prostrate before Thy throne to lie,
And gaze, and gaze on Thee!

Lo, God is Here!

Lo, God is here! let us adore,
And own how dreadful is this place!
Let all within us feel His power,
And silent bow before His face.

Lo, God is here! Whom day and night
United choirs of angels sing;
To Him, enthroned above all height,
The hosts of Heaven their praises bring.

Gladly the toys of earth we leave,
Wealth, pleasure, fame, for Thee alone;
To Thee our will, soul, flesh, we give,
O take, O seal them for Thine own!

Disdain, not, Lord, our meaner song,
Who praise Thee with a faltering tongue.
To Thee may all our thoughts arise
A true and ceaseless sacrifice.

Being of beings, may our praise
Thy courts with grateful fragrance fill!
Still may we stand before Thy face,
Still hear and do Thy sovereign will.

In Thee we move all things of Thee
Are full, Thou Source and Life of all;
Thou vast unfathomable sea!
Fall prostrate, lost in wonder fall.

As flowers their opening leaves display,
And glad drink in the solar fire,
So may we catch Thine every ray,
And thus Thy influence inspire.

Jesus, Thou Joy of Loving Hearts

Jesus, Thou Joy of loving hearts,
Thou Fount of life, Thou Light of men,
From the best bliss that earth imparts,
We turn unfilled to Thee again.

Thy truth unchanged hath ever stood;
Thou savest those that on Thee call;
To them that seek Thee Thou art good,
To them that find Thee all in all.

We taste Thee, O Thou living Bread,
And long to feast upon Thee still;
We drink of Thee, the Fountainhead,
And thirst our souls from Thee to fill.

Our restless spirits yearn for Thee,
Wherever our changeful lot is cast;
Glad when Thy gracious smile we see,
Blessed when our faith can hold Thee fast.

O Jesus, ever with us stay,
Make all our moments calm and bright;
Chase the dark night of sin away,
Shed over the world Thy holy light.

Begin, My Tongue, Some Heavenly Theme

Begin, my tongue, some heavenly theme
And speak some boundless thing;
The mighty works, or mightier Name
Of our eternal King.

Tell of His wonderful faithfulness
And sound His power abroad;
Sing the sweet promise of His grace,
 And the performing God

Proclaim “salvation from the Lord
For wretched, dying men”;
His hand has writ the sacred Word
With an immortal pen.

Engraved as in eternal brass
The mighty promise shines;
Nor can the powers of darkness ‘rase
Those everlasting lines.

He that can dash whole worlds to death,
And make them when He please,
He speaks, and that almighty breath
Fulfils His great decrees.

His every word of grace is strong
As that which built the skies;
The voice that rolls the stars along
Speaks all the promises.

He said, “Let the wide heav’n be spread,”
And heav’n was stretched abroad:
“Abram, I’ll be thy God,” He said,
And He was Abram’s God.

O might I hear Thy heavenly tongue
But whisper, “Thou art Mine!”
Those gentle words shall raise my song
To notes almost divine.

How would my leaping heart rejoice,
And think my heav’n secure!
I trust the all creating voice,
And faith desires no more.

When All Thy Mercies, O My God

When all Thy mercies, O my God,
My rising soul surveys,
Transported with the view, I’m lost
In wonder, love and praise.

Thy Providence my life sustained,
And all my wants redressed,
While in the silent womb I lay,
And hung upon the breast.

To all my weak complaints and cries
Thy mercy lent an ear,
Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learned
To form themselves in prayer.

Unnumbered comforts to my soul
Thy tender care bestowed,
Before my infant heart conceived
From Whom those comforts flowed.

When in the slippery paths of youth
With heedless steps I ran,
Thine arm unseen conveyed me safe,
And led me up to man.

Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths,
It gently cleared my way;
And through the pleasing snares of vice,
More to be feared than they.

O how shall words with equal warmth
The gratitude declare,
That glows within my ravished heart?
But thou canst read it there.

Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss
Hath made my cup run o’er;
And, in a kind and faithful Friend,
Hath doubled all my store.

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts
My daily thanks employ;
Nor is the last a cheerful heart
That tastes those gifts with joy.

When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou
With health renewed my face;
And, when in sins and sorrows sunk,
Revived my soul with grace.

Through every period of my life
Thy goodness I’ll pursue
And after death, in distant worlds,
The glorious theme renew.

When nature fails, and day and night
Divide Thy works no more,
My ever grateful heart, O Lord,
Thy mercy shall adore.

Through all eternity to Thee
A joyful song I’ll raise;
For, oh, eternity’s too short
To utter all Thy praise!

Joseph Addison, 1672- 1719

Jesus, Thy Blood and Righteousness

Translated by John Wesley (1703 – 1791)

Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness
My beauty are, my glorious dress;
‘Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed,
With joy shall I lift up my head.

Bold shall I stand in Thy great day,
For who aught to my charge lay?
Fully absolved thru these I am
From sin and fear, from guilt and shame.

Lord, I believe Thy precious blood
Which at the mercy seat of God
Forever doth for sinners plead
For me, e’en for my soul was shed.

Lord I believe were sinners more
Than sands upon the ocean shore
Thou hast for all a ransom paid
For all a full atonement made.

Count Nicolaus L. von Zinzendorf (1700-1760)