THE ANCIENT OF DAYS

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’Tis a wonderful Chorister made us to sing,
And taught every warbler its lays;
And His rapturous voice leads the angels in song;
And His name is the Ancient of Days!
’Tis a wonderful Architect builded the earth;
We read His great heart in His ways;
In the sweet and the beautiful mirrored He lives;
And His name is the Ancient of Days!
’Tis a wondrous Philosopher balanced the clouds,
And weaves the bright sunshine with haze;
And waters the earth with the dew and the rains;
And His name is the Ancient of Days!
His arm never wearies; His heart never faints,
For strength to guide worlds on their ways;
And all the bright comets that rush through the sky,
Heed the voice of the Ancient of Days!
His heart is the gladdest of all the glad hearts
That join in the anthem of praise;
Yet none grieves like Him o’er the loss of the soul,
Because He’s the Ancient of Days.
His voice is the sweetest in all the glad song
In rapture all Heaven to amaze:
In all the vast universe naught can compare;
With the voice of the Ancient of Days!
And with Him in loveliness none can compare;
His beauty is great as His ways.
And those who behold Him are changed by His smile,
Because He is Ancient of Days!
His age shows no weakness; His beauty and truth
Shine ever ’mid cycles of praise.
Forever He keepeth “the dew of His youth,”
Because He is Ancient of Days!
I long for His teaching; I long to behold,
And sing with the angels His praise.
And soon I shall see Him, see Him as He is,
Our Saviour, the Ancient of Days.
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