(After the Vicar Pritchard, 1569-1644)
Wise yokel foolish King excelleth;
Good name than spikenard sweeter smelleth!
What's gold to prudence? Strength to grace?
Man's more than goods; God first in place.
What though her dowry be but meagre,
Far better wise, God-fearing Igir,
Than yonder vain and brainless doll,
Helpless her fortune to control.
A wife that's true and kind and sunny
Is better than a mint of money;
Better than houses, land and gold
Or pearls and gems to have and hold.
A ship is she with jewels freighted,
Her price beyond all rubies rated,
A hundred-virtued amulet
To such as her in marriage get.
Gold pillar to a silver socket;
The weakling's tower of strength, firm-lockèd,
The very golden crown of life;
Grace upon grace--a virtuous wife.
"MARCHOG JESU!"
(Hymn sung at the Investiture of the Prince of Wales, the Welsh words by
Pantycelyn, the famous eighteenth-century hymn-writer)
Lord, ride on in triumph glorious,
Gird Thy sword upon Thy Thigh!
Earth shall own Thy Might Victorious,
Death and Hell confounded lie.
Yea! before Thine Eye all-seeing,
All Thy foes shall fly aghast;
Nature's self, through all her being,
Tremble at Thy Trampling Past.
Pierce, for Thou alone art able,
Pierce our dungeon with Thy day;
Shatter all the gates of Babel,
Rend her iron bars away!
Till, as billows thunder shoreward,
All the Ransomed Ones ascend,
Into freedom surging forward
Without number, without end.
Who are these whose praises pealing
From beyond the Morning Star
Earthward solemnly are stealing
Down the distance faint and far?
These are they, the Ever Living,
All in glistening garments gone,
Palm in hand, with proud Thanksgiving
Up before the Great White Throne.