BETHEL.
Not on couch of ivory,Cushioned, curtained, daintily,—But upon the flinty ground,The dread wilderness around,Jacob sleeps, afar, alone,—And his pillow is a stone!Ah! poor friendless fugitive,What can now thy birth-right give?Pitiless the stars look down,Like his brother’s haunting frown;—In his heart are many fears,—In his eyes are bitter tears;Even in his sleep he groans;Even as he sleeps he moans,“God be merciful to me!Pity, Lord, my misery.”Rest thee, pilgrim; not in vainThy repentance and thy pain.Wonderful the grace divine!Thine the covenant,—still thine,Sealed to Abraham of old,—Bearing blessing manifoldUnto ages yet unborn,Through thee, desolate, forlorn.Ay! e’en now to him is givenToken of the love of Heaven;For behold! about him standMinisters of God’s right hand:Angels excellent in might,Radiant in robes of light;—And, before his ravished eyes,Lo, the ladder to the skies!Oh, that blessed, wondrous sight!Making all the midnight bright,—Bringing hope and healing in,To the spirit stained with sin,—Driving grief and gloom away,With the breaking of the day,—Wakening every tender chordWith the glory of the Lord!Passed the Vision;—it is dawn;Shining sons of light are gone;—Wakes the servant of the Lord,Wondering, at His gracious word;—From his lips in language meet,Faith’s confession, grateful, sweet:—“Surely God was in this place,And upon me shone His face!”So, upon the holy groundWhere the gate of heaven he found,Buildeth he with pious care,Joining praise with humble prayer,From the stones of that blest place,A memorial to God’s grace:—“Bethel, Lord, its name shall be,—Covenant ’twixt Thee and me.”Glory to Thy holy Name,—Thou, O Lord, art still the same!Angel-guidesourway attend;Angel-guardsoursouls defend;—We, too, know the blessed groundWhere the shining gate was found:—Trysting-place of earth and heaven,—Let the same sweet name be given:—Bethel, through the ages past,—Bethel still, while time shall last;Bethel, then, its dear name be,—Bethel, through eternity!
Not on couch of ivory,Cushioned, curtained, daintily,—But upon the flinty ground,The dread wilderness around,Jacob sleeps, afar, alone,—And his pillow is a stone!Ah! poor friendless fugitive,What can now thy birth-right give?Pitiless the stars look down,Like his brother’s haunting frown;—In his heart are many fears,—In his eyes are bitter tears;Even in his sleep he groans;Even as he sleeps he moans,“God be merciful to me!Pity, Lord, my misery.”Rest thee, pilgrim; not in vainThy repentance and thy pain.Wonderful the grace divine!Thine the covenant,—still thine,Sealed to Abraham of old,—Bearing blessing manifoldUnto ages yet unborn,Through thee, desolate, forlorn.Ay! e’en now to him is givenToken of the love of Heaven;For behold! about him standMinisters of God’s right hand:Angels excellent in might,Radiant in robes of light;—And, before his ravished eyes,Lo, the ladder to the skies!Oh, that blessed, wondrous sight!Making all the midnight bright,—Bringing hope and healing in,To the spirit stained with sin,—Driving grief and gloom away,With the breaking of the day,—Wakening every tender chordWith the glory of the Lord!Passed the Vision;—it is dawn;Shining sons of light are gone;—Wakes the servant of the Lord,Wondering, at His gracious word;—From his lips in language meet,Faith’s confession, grateful, sweet:—“Surely God was in this place,And upon me shone His face!”So, upon the holy groundWhere the gate of heaven he found,Buildeth he with pious care,Joining praise with humble prayer,From the stones of that blest place,A memorial to God’s grace:—“Bethel, Lord, its name shall be,—Covenant ’twixt Thee and me.”Glory to Thy holy Name,—Thou, O Lord, art still the same!Angel-guidesourway attend;Angel-guardsoursouls defend;—We, too, know the blessed groundWhere the shining gate was found:—Trysting-place of earth and heaven,—Let the same sweet name be given:—Bethel, through the ages past,—Bethel still, while time shall last;Bethel, then, its dear name be,—Bethel, through eternity!
Not on couch of ivory,Cushioned, curtained, daintily,—But upon the flinty ground,The dread wilderness around,Jacob sleeps, afar, alone,—And his pillow is a stone!Ah! poor friendless fugitive,What can now thy birth-right give?
Not on couch of ivory,
Cushioned, curtained, daintily,—
But upon the flinty ground,
The dread wilderness around,
Jacob sleeps, afar, alone,—
And his pillow is a stone!
Ah! poor friendless fugitive,
What can now thy birth-right give?
Pitiless the stars look down,Like his brother’s haunting frown;—In his heart are many fears,—In his eyes are bitter tears;Even in his sleep he groans;Even as he sleeps he moans,“God be merciful to me!Pity, Lord, my misery.”
Pitiless the stars look down,
Like his brother’s haunting frown;—
In his heart are many fears,—
In his eyes are bitter tears;
Even in his sleep he groans;
Even as he sleeps he moans,
“God be merciful to me!
Pity, Lord, my misery.”
Rest thee, pilgrim; not in vainThy repentance and thy pain.Wonderful the grace divine!Thine the covenant,—still thine,Sealed to Abraham of old,—Bearing blessing manifoldUnto ages yet unborn,Through thee, desolate, forlorn.
Rest thee, pilgrim; not in vain
Thy repentance and thy pain.
Wonderful the grace divine!
Thine the covenant,—still thine,
Sealed to Abraham of old,—
Bearing blessing manifold
Unto ages yet unborn,
Through thee, desolate, forlorn.
Ay! e’en now to him is givenToken of the love of Heaven;For behold! about him standMinisters of God’s right hand:Angels excellent in might,Radiant in robes of light;—And, before his ravished eyes,Lo, the ladder to the skies!
Ay! e’en now to him is given
Token of the love of Heaven;
For behold! about him stand
Ministers of God’s right hand:
Angels excellent in might,
Radiant in robes of light;—
And, before his ravished eyes,
Lo, the ladder to the skies!
Oh, that blessed, wondrous sight!Making all the midnight bright,—Bringing hope and healing in,To the spirit stained with sin,—Driving grief and gloom away,With the breaking of the day,—Wakening every tender chordWith the glory of the Lord!
Oh, that blessed, wondrous sight!
Making all the midnight bright,—
Bringing hope and healing in,
To the spirit stained with sin,—
Driving grief and gloom away,
With the breaking of the day,—
Wakening every tender chord
With the glory of the Lord!
Passed the Vision;—it is dawn;Shining sons of light are gone;—Wakes the servant of the Lord,Wondering, at His gracious word;—From his lips in language meet,Faith’s confession, grateful, sweet:—“Surely God was in this place,And upon me shone His face!”
Passed the Vision;—it is dawn;
Shining sons of light are gone;—
Wakes the servant of the Lord,
Wondering, at His gracious word;—
From his lips in language meet,
Faith’s confession, grateful, sweet:—
“Surely God was in this place,
And upon me shone His face!”
So, upon the holy groundWhere the gate of heaven he found,Buildeth he with pious care,Joining praise with humble prayer,From the stones of that blest place,A memorial to God’s grace:—“Bethel, Lord, its name shall be,—Covenant ’twixt Thee and me.”
So, upon the holy ground
Where the gate of heaven he found,
Buildeth he with pious care,
Joining praise with humble prayer,
From the stones of that blest place,
A memorial to God’s grace:—
“Bethel, Lord, its name shall be,—
Covenant ’twixt Thee and me.”
Glory to Thy holy Name,—Thou, O Lord, art still the same!Angel-guidesourway attend;Angel-guardsoursouls defend;—We, too, know the blessed groundWhere the shining gate was found:—Trysting-place of earth and heaven,—Let the same sweet name be given:—Bethel, through the ages past,—Bethel still, while time shall last;Bethel, then, its dear name be,—Bethel, through eternity!
Glory to Thy holy Name,—
Thou, O Lord, art still the same!
Angel-guidesourway attend;
Angel-guardsoursouls defend;—
We, too, know the blessed ground
Where the shining gate was found:—
Trysting-place of earth and heaven,—
Let the same sweet name be given:—
Bethel, through the ages past,—
Bethel still, while time shall last;
Bethel, then, its dear name be,—
Bethel, through eternity!