THAT HOLY KING
drop-capTheyall were looking for a kingTo slay their foes and lift them high:Thou cam’st, a little baby thingThat made a woman cry.O Son of Man, to right my lotNaught but Thy presence can avail;Yet on the road Thy wheels are not,Nor on the sea Thy sail!My how or when Thou wilt not heed,But come down thine own secret stair,That Thou mayst answer all my need—Yea, every bygone prayer.
drop-capTheyall were looking for a kingTo slay their foes and lift them high:Thou cam’st, a little baby thingThat made a woman cry.O Son of Man, to right my lotNaught but Thy presence can avail;Yet on the road Thy wheels are not,Nor on the sea Thy sail!My how or when Thou wilt not heed,But come down thine own secret stair,That Thou mayst answer all my need—Yea, every bygone prayer.
drop-capTheyall were looking for a kingTo slay their foes and lift them high:Thou cam’st, a little baby thingThat made a woman cry.
drop-cap
Theyall were looking for a king
To slay their foes and lift them high:
Thou cam’st, a little baby thing
That made a woman cry.
O Son of Man, to right my lotNaught but Thy presence can avail;Yet on the road Thy wheels are not,Nor on the sea Thy sail!
O Son of Man, to right my lot
Naught but Thy presence can avail;
Yet on the road Thy wheels are not,
Nor on the sea Thy sail!
My how or when Thou wilt not heed,But come down thine own secret stair,That Thou mayst answer all my need—Yea, every bygone prayer.
My how or when Thou wilt not heed,
But come down thine own secret stair,
That Thou mayst answer all my need—
Yea, every bygone prayer.
George Macdonald