A Note to My Readers -
I've decided to remove my Sunday posts from the weekly cycle. Although I hope they've been of benefit to some of you, they are necessarily secondary to my regular work of sermon preparation each week. I've found that having that extra post to write simply added to the burden of my work. For those readers who would still like access to my weekly work in Scriptural exposition, I would ask them to access the podcasts of my sermons (available through a link in the sidebar), since that remains the primary form of my Bible teaching each week.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

A Hymn to My God in a Night of My Late Sickness

I didn't manage to write an original poem this week, in part because I've come down with a brief adverse reaction to a vaccine--better, no doubt, than actually succumbing to the disease it protects me from, but still an onerous happenstance. So, in place of a poem of my own, here's a bit of verse from someone else that fits the theme of my recent experience:

A Hymn to My God in a Night of My Late Sickness

O thou great Power, in whom I move,
For whom I live, to whom I die,
Behold me through thy beams of love,
Whilst on this couch of tears I lie,
      And cleanse my sordid soul within
      By thy Christ’s blood, the bath of sin.

No hallowed oils, no grains I need,
No rags of saints, no purging fire,
One rosy drop from David’s seed
Was worlds of seas to quench thine ire.
      O precious ransom, which once paid
      That Consummatum Est was said;

And said by him that said no more,
But sealed it with his sacred breath.
Thou then, that has dispunged my score,
And dying was the death of Death,
      Be to me now—on thee I call—
      My Life, my Strength, my Joy, my All.

Sir Henry Wotton (1568-1639)

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