WARM with love, my heart's inditing

WARM with love, my heart's inditing Cherish'd thoughts on sacred things; With my tongue like ready writing, I'll extol the King of kings; Of whose glory Ev'ry saint and angel sings.

Thou of all the sons art fairest, Yea, Thy lips are fill'd with grace; All Thy fulness, Lord, Thou sharest ' Mongst Thy chosen, ransom'd race; And in glory They shall see Thee face to face.

O most mighty, O most blessed, Gird Thy sword upon Thy thigh; All Thy stubborn foes defy.

Truth and righteousness, and meekness, Are the weapons of Thy hand; All Thy foes shall know their weakness, None can Jesus' power withstand; ' Tis Thy glory, Rebels bow at Thy command. 1847, a.