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His Christmas hymns were so well received that Brorson was encouraged to continue his writing. During the following year he published no less than five collections bearing the t.i.tles: Some Advent Hymns, Some Pa.s.sion Hymns, Some Easter Hymns, Some Pentecost Hymns, and Hymns for the Minor Festivals. All of these hymns were likewise kindly received and therefore he continued to send out new collections, publis.h.i.+ng during the following years a whole series of hymns on various phases of Christian faith and life. In 1739, all these hymns were collected into one volume and published under the t.i.tle: The Rare Clenod of Faith.
This now famous book contains in all 67 original and 216 translated hymns. The arrangement of the hymns follows in the main the order of the Lutheran catechism, covering not only every division but almost every subdivision of the book. Brorson, it appears, must have written his hymns after a preconceived plan, a rather unusual method for a hymnwriter to follow.
The Rare Clenod of Faith fails as a whole to maintain the high standard of the Christmas hymns. Although the language, as in all that Brorson wrote, is pure and melodious, the poetic flight and fresh sentiment of his earlier work is lacking to some extent in the latter part of the collection. One reason for this is thought to be that Brorson, on locating at Tonder, had come into closer contact with the more extreme views of Pietism. The imprint of that movement, at least, is more distinct upon his later than upon his earlier work. The great preponderance of his translated over his original hymns also affects the spirit of the collection. He was not always fortunate in the selection of the original material for his translations. Some of these express the excessive Pietistic contemplation of the Savior's blood and wounds; others are rhymed sermons rather than songs of praise.
Despite these defects, The Rare Clenod of Faith, still ranks with the great books of hymnody. It contains a wealth of hymns that will never die. Even the less successful of its compositions present a true Evangelical message, a message that, at times, sounds a stern call to awake and "shake off that sinful sleep before to you is closed the open door" and, at others, pleads softly for a closer walk with G.o.d, a deeper understanding of His ways and a firmer trust in His grace. There are many strings on Brorson's harp, but they all sound a note of vital faith.
Judging Brorson's original hymns to be far superior to his translations, some have deplored that he should have spent so much of his time in transferring the work of others. And it is, no doubt, true that his original hymns are as a whole superior to his translations. But many of these are so fine that their elimination would now appear like an irreplaceable loss to Danish hymnody. The constant love with which many of them have been used for more than two hundred years should silence the claim that a translated hymn must of necessity be less valuable than an original. A considerable number of the originals of Brorson's most favored translations have long been forgotten.
As a translator Brorson is usually quite faithful to the originals, following them as closely as the differences in language and mode of expression permit. He is not slavishly bound, however, to his text. His constant aim is to reproduce his text in a pure and idiomatic Danish. And as his own poetic skill in most cases was superior to that of the original writer, his translations are often greatly superior to their originals in poetical merit.
Although the translation of a translation of necessity presents a very unreliable yard-stick of a man's work, the following translation of Brorson's version of the well-known German hymn, "Ich Will Dich Lieben, Meine Starke" may at least indicate the nature of his work as a translator.
Thee will I love, my strength, my Treasure; My heart in Thee finds peace and joy. Thee will I love in fullest measure, And in Thy cause my life employ. Thee will I love and serve alone. Lord, take me as Thine own.
Thee will I love, my Life Eternal, My Guide and Shepherd on Life's way. Thou leadest me to pastures vernal, And to the light of endless day. Thee will I love, Whose blood was spilt To cleanse my soul from guilt.
Long, long wert Thou to me a stranger, Though Thou didst love me first of all, I strayed afar in sin and danger And heeded not Thy loving call Until I found that peace of heart Thou canst alone impart.
Lord, cast not out Thy child, returning A wanderer, naked and forlorn. The tempting world, I sought with yearning, Had naught to give but grief and scorn. In Thee alone for all its grief My heart now finds relief.
Thee will I love and wors.h.i.+p ever, My Lord, my G.o.d and Brother dear! Must every earthly tie I sever And naught but sorrow suffer here, Thee will I love, my Lord divine; O Jesus, call me Thine.
Equally characteristic of his work is his translation of the less-known but appealing German hymn "Der Schmale Weg Ist Breit Genug zum Leben".
The narrow way is wide enough to heaven For those who walk straight-forward and with care And take each step with watchfulness and prayer. When we are by the Spirit driven, The narrow way is wide enough to heaven.
The way of G.o.d is full of grace and beauty For those who unto Him in faith have turned And have His way with love and ardor learned. When we accept His call and duty, The way of G.o.d is full of grace and beauty.
The yoke of G.o.d is not too hard to carry For those who love His blessed will and way And shall their carnal pride in meekness slay. When we with Him in faith will tarry, The yoke of G.o.d is not too hard to carry.
O Jesus, help me Thy blest way to follow. Thou knowest best my weak and fainting heart And must not let me from Thy way depart. I shall Thy name with praises hallow, If Thou wilt help me Thy blest way to follow.
But fine as many of his translations are, Brorson's main claim to fame must rest, of course, upon his original compositions. These are of varying merit. His Christmas hymns were followed by a number of hymns for the festivals of the church year. While some of these are excellent, others are merely rhymed meditations upon the meaning of the season and lack the freshness of his Christmas anthems. The triumphant Easter hymn given below belongs to the finest of the group.
Christians, who with sorrow On this Easter morrow Watch the Savior's tomb, Banish all your sadness, On this day of gladness Joy must vanquish gloom. Christ this hour With mighty power Crushed the foe who would detain Him; Nothing could restrain Him.
Rise, ye feeble-hearted, Who have pined and smarted, Vexed by sin and dread. He has burst the prison And with might arisen, Jesus, Who was dead. And His bride For whom He died, He from sin and death now raises; Hail Him then with praises.
When our sins aggrieve us, Jesus will receive us, All our debt He paid. We, who were transgressors Are now blest possessors Of His grace and aid. When in death He gave His breath To the cruel foe He yielded That we should be s.h.i.+elded.
Earth! where are thy wonders! h.e.l.l! where are thy thunders! Death, where is thy sting! Jesus rose victorious, Reigns in heaven glorious As our Lord and King. Him, the Lord, Who did accord Us so great a joy and favor, We will praise forever.
Brorson's other hymns are too numerous to permit a more than cursory review. Beginning with the subject of creation, he wrote a number of excellent hymns on the work and providence of G.o.d. Best known among these is the hymn given below, which is said to have so pleased the king that he chose its author to become bishop. The hymn is thought to have been written while Brorson was still at Randrup. But whether this be so or not, it is evidently inspired by the natural scenery of that locality.
Arise, all things that G.o.d hath made[5] And praise His name and glory; Great is the least His hand arrayed, And tells a wondrous story.
Would all the kings of earth display Their utmost pomp and power, They could not make a leaflet stay And grow upon a flower.
How could the wisdom I compa.s.s To show the grace and wonder Of but the smallest blade of gra.s.s On which the mind would ponder.
What shall I say when I admire The verdant meadows blooming, And listen to the joyful choir Of birds above them zooming.
What shall I say when I descry Deep in the restless ocean The myriad creatures pa.s.sing by In swift and ceaseless motion.
What shall I say when I behold The stars in countless numbers Display their light and charm untold While nature sweetly slumbers.
What shall I say when I ascend To Him Who made creation, And see the angel host attend His throne with adoration.
What shall I say--vain are my words And humble my opinion! Great is Thy wisdom, Lord of lords, Thy glory and dominion!
Lift up your voice with one accord Now, every tribe and nation: Hallelujah, great is our Lord And wondrous His creation!
The Pietist movement is known for its fervid glorification of the Savior, and particularly of His blood and wounds, a glorification which at times appears objectionable because of the too-familiar and realistic terms in which it is expressed. Brorson did not wholly escape the excesses of the movement in this respect, especially in his translations. In his original hymns the excesses are less apparent. However faithful he might be to the movement he possessed a wholesome restraint which, when he was not following others, caused him to moderate its most inappropriate extravagances. What can be more reverent than this beautiful tribute to the Savior: Jesus, name of wondrous grace, Fount of mercy and salvation, First fruit of the new creation, Weary sinners' resting place, Banner of the faith victorious, Anchor of our hope and love, Guide us in Thy footsteps glorious, Bear us to Thy home above.
Or more expressive than this jubilant hymn of adoration: O Thou blest Immanuel! What exceeding joy from heaven Hast Thou caused in me to dwell By Thy life for sinners given. Thou hast broke the bands at last Which my yearning soul held fast.
In Thine arms I find relief, Soon Thy home I shall inherit, Sin and sorrow, death and grief Nevermore shall vex my spirit. For Thy word confirms the pledge Of my lasting heritage.
Lord, my praise ascends to Thee For these days of joy and sorrow; They shall end in jubilee On that blest eternal morrow When the Sun of Paradise Shall for me in splendor rise.
Rise in joyful faith, my soul! Banish all thy grief and sadness. Strong the stream of life shall roll Through my heart with constant gladness. Jesus, Who mine anguish bore, Be now praised for evermore.
Most beautiful is also his hymn to the Lamb of G.o.d, translated by Pastor D. G. M. Bach.
I see Thee stand, O Lamb of G.o.d, On Zion's mountain peak. But Oh the way that Thou hast trod, So long, so hard, so bleak! What Thou didst suffer for our woe, No man can ever know.
Though Brorson made a number of excellent translations of hymns to the Spirit such as the beautiful, "Come, Rains from the Heavens, to Strengthen and Nourish the Languis.h.i.+ng Field," he wrote no outstanding Pentecost hymns of his own composition. It remained for Grundtvig to supply the Danish church with a wealth of unexcelled hymns on the Holy Ghost.
Aside from his Christmas hymns, Brorson's greatest contribution to hymnody is perhaps his revival hymns, a type in which the Lutheran church is rather poor. The special message of the Pietist movement was an earnest call to awake, and Brorson repeated that call with an appealing insistence and earnestness. The word of G.o.d has been sown, but where are its fruits?
O Father, may Thy word prevail Against the power of h.e.l.l! Behold the vineyard Thou hast tilled With thorns and thistles filled. 'Tis true, the plants are there, But ah, how weak and rare, How slight the power and evidence Of word and sacraments.
It is, therefore, time for all Christians to awake.
Awaken from your idle dreaming! Ye lukewarm Christians, now arise. Behold, the light from heaven streaming Proclaims the day of mercy flies. Throw off that sinful sleep before To you is closed the open door.
Many are heedless, taking no thought of the day when all shall appear before the judgment of G.o.d. Such people should arouse themselves and prepare for the rendering of their account.
O heart, prepare to give account Of all thy sore transgression. To G.o.d, of grace and love the Fount, Make thou a full confession. What hast thou done these many years The Lord hath thee afforded. Nothing but sin and earthly cares Is in G.o.d's book recorded.
He realizes that many continue in their sin because of ignorance, and with these he pleads so softly: If thou but knew the life that thou are leading In sin and shame is Satan's tyranny, Thou wouldest kneel and with the Lord be pleading That He thy soul from bondage would set free. Oh, how the Saviour would rejoice If thou today should'st listen to His voice!
And the day of salvation is now at hand.
O, seek the Lord today, Today He hath salvation. Approach Him while He may Still hear thy supplication. Repent and seek His grace While yet His call doth sound, Yea turn to Him thy face While still He may be found.
Orthodoxy had instilled a formal, but often spiritless faith. Pietism aimed to awaken the great ma.s.s of formal believers to a new life, a living and active faith. This is strongly expressed in the very popular hymn below.
The faith that Christ embraces[6] And purifies the hearts The faith that boldly faces The devil's fiery darts, That faith is strong and must Withstand the world's temptation And in all tribulation, In Christ, the Saviour, trust.
The faith that knows no struggle Against the power of sin, The faith that sounds no bugle To waken, fight and win, That faith is dead and vain, Its sacred name disgracing, And impotent when facing The devil's mighty reign.
A Christian wears his armor To wage the war of faith Against the crafty charmer, His foe in life and death. With Jesus he must stand Undaunted and victorious, If he would win his glorious Reward at G.o.d's right hand.
It is a comfort pleasing In our embattled life, To feel our strength increasing In trying days of strife. And as our days shall be The Lord will help accord us And with His gifts reward us When striving faithfully.
O Lord, my hope most fervent, My refuge in all woe, I will hence be Thy servant Through all my days below. Let come whatever may, I will exalt Thee ever, And ask no other favor Than live with Thee for aye.
Although Brorson knew that-- The cost is greater than at first expected To be in G.o.d's unbounded gifts perfected.
he holds that.
It does not cost too hard a strife To be a Christian, pure and heaven-minded,-- But a Christian must be steadfast and persevering, as he admonishes himself and others in the following very popular hymn. The translation is by Pastor P. C. Paulsen.
Stand fast, my soul, stand fast In Christ, thy Saviour! Lose not the war at last By faint behaviour. It is of no avail That thou hast known Him If when thy foes a.s.sail, Thou shalt His banner fail, And thus disown Him.
To brandish high thy sword, With calm a.s.surance, And face the devil's horde With brave endurance, Is meet and well begun, And merits praising. But from the strife to run, When blows thy courage stun, Is most disgracing.
Let Satan rave and rage By hosts attended, The war for Christ I wage Until it's ended. When leaning on His arm With firm reliance, I need not take alarm, To me can come no harm From h.e.l.l's defiance.
When Jesus' love I see, It me constraineth, So that from carnal glee My soul abstaineth. When heaven to me is dear, Its joys attractive, Of h.e.l.l I have no fear, For Christ, my Lord, is near, In battle active.
In just a little while The strife is ended, And I from Satan's guile For aye defended. Then I, where all is well, In heaven's glory, Among the saints shall dwell, And with rejoicing tell Salvation's story.
Therefore children of G.o.d should rejoice.
Children of G.o.d, born again by His Spirit, Never ye cease in His name to rejoice; Jesus believing and saved by His merit, Come we to Him with a jubilant voice.
But even a child of G.o.d must not expect to escape from the common trials and perils of life. G.o.d promises a.s.sistance but not exemption to those who love Him. In the following striking hymn, Brorson vividly pictures both the trials and the comfort of a child of G.o.d.
I walk in danger everywhere,[7] The thought must never leave me, That Satan watches to ensnare And with his guile deceive me. His cunning pitfalls may Make me an easy prey Unless I guard myself with care; I walk in danger everywhere.
I walk through trials everywhere; The world no help can offer. The burdens I am called to bear I must with patience suffer; Though often I discern No place where I may turn When clouds surround me far and near; Death walks beside me everywhere.
Death walks besides me everywhere; Its shadows oft appall me. I know not when the hour is here When G.o.d from earth shall call me. A moment's failing breath, And I am cold in death, Faced with eternity fore'er; Death walks besides me everywhere.
I walk 'mongst angels everywhere; They are my sure defenders; The hordes of h.e.l.l in vain prepare Against such strong contenders. All doubts and fears must flee, With angels guarding me; No foe can harm me in their care; I walk 'mongst angels everywhere.
I walk with Jesus everywhere; His goodness never fails me. I rest beneath His s.h.i.+elding care When trouble sore a.s.sails me. And by His footsteps led, My path I safely tread. Despite all ills my foes prepare: I walk with Jesus everywhere.
I walk to heaven everywhere, Preparing for the morrow When G.o.d shall hear my anxious prayer And banish all my sorrow. Be quiet then, my soul, Press onward to thy goal. All carnal pleasures thou forswear, And walk to heaven everywhere.
Unlike Kingo and Grundtvig, Brorson wrote no outstanding hymns on the sacraments. Pietism was in the main a revival movement and placed no special emphasis on the means of grace. And although Brorson remained a loyal son of the established church, he wrote his finest hymns on those phases of Christianity most earnestly emphasized by the movement to which he belonged. While this is only what could be expected, it indicates both his strength and limitation as a hymnwriter. He was above all the sweet singer of Pietism.
The hymns of Brorson that appeared during his lifetime were all written within the s.p.a.ce of four years. In that brief period he composed a volume of songs that rank with the finest in the Christian church, and just as he might have been expected to produce his finest work, he discontinued his effort. The hymns of the Swan-Song--which we shall discuss later--though written for his own edification, indicate what he might have attained if he had continued to write for publication. His reason for thus putting aside the lyre, which for a little while he had played so appealingly, is unknown. Some have suggested that he wrote his hymns according to a preconceived plan, which, when completed, he felt no inclination to enlarge; others have surmised that the new and ardent duties, bestowed upon him about this time, deprived him of the leisure to write. But as Brorson himself expressed no reason for his action, no one really knows why this sweet singer of Pietism so suddenly ceased to sing.
[5]Another translation with the same first line by A. M. Andersen in "Hymnal for Church and Home".
[6]Another translation: "The faith that G.o.d believeth" by P. C. Paulsen in "Hymnal for Church and Home".
[7]Another translation: "I walk in danger all the way" by D. G. Ristad in "Hymnal for Church and Home".
Chapter Ten.
Brorson's SWAN-SONG.
The Pietist movement, new and numerically small when the Brorsons aligned themselves with it, made such sweeping progress that within a few years it became the most powerful movement within the Danish church. And in 1739, it ascended the throne in the persons of King Christian VI and his consort, Queen Sophia Magdalene of Kulmbach, an event of great significance to the fortunes of the Brorsons.
In Denmark the king is officially the head of the church. At the time of Brorson all church appointments belonged to him, and King Christian VI, if he had so wanted, could thus have filled all vacancies with adherents of the movement in which he sincerely believed. He was, however, no fanatic. Earnestly concerned, as he no doubt was, to further the spiritual welfare of his subjects, his only desire was to supply all church positions at his disposal with good and able men. And as such the Brorsons were recommended to him by his old tutor and adviser in church affairs, John Herman Schraeder. On this recommendation, he successively invited the brothers to preach at court. Their impression upon him was so favorable that within a few years he appointed Nicolaj to become pastor of Nicolaj church in Copenhagen, one of the largest churches in the capital, Broder to become Provost of the cathedral at Ribe and, two years later, Bishop of Aalborg, and Hans Adolph to succeed his brother at Ribe and, four years later, to become bishop of that large and historically famous bishopric. Thus the brothers in a few years had been elevated from obscurity to leading positions within their church.
Contemporaries express highly different estimates of Brorson as a bishop. While praised by some, he is severely criticized by others as unfit both by ability and temperament for the high office he occupied. This last estimate now is generally held to be unjust and, to some extent at least, inspired by jealousy of his quick rise to fame and by antagonism to his pietistic views. A close examination of church records and his official correspondence proves him to have been both efficient in the administration of his office and moderate in his dealings with others. He was by all accounts an eloquent and effective speaker. Although Ribe was a small city, its large cathedral was usually crowded whenever it was known that Brorson would conduct the service. People came from far away to hear him. And his preaching at home and on his frequent visits to all parts of his large bishopric bore fruit in a signal quickening of the Christian life in many of the parishes under his charge. He was, we are told, as happy as a child when he found pastors and their people working faithfully together for the upbuilding of the kingdom. But his own zeal caused him to look for the same earnestness in others. And he was usually stern and, at times, implacable, in his judgment of neglect and slothfulness, especially in the pastors.
His private life was by all accounts exceptionally pure and simple, a true expression of his sincere faith and earnest piety. A domestic, who for many years served in his home has furnished us with a most interesting account of his home life. Brorson, she testifies, was an exceptionally kind and friendly man, always gentle and considerate in his dealing with others except when they had provoked him by some gross neglect or inattention to right and duty. He was generous to a fault toward others, but very frugal, even parsimonious in his home and in his personal habits. Only at Christmas or on other special occasion would he urge his household to spare nothing. He was a ceaseless and industrious worker, giving close personal attention to the multiple duties of his important position and office. His daily life bore eloquent witness of his sincere piety. When at home, no matter how busy, he always gathered his whole household for daily devotions. Music const.i.tuted his sole diversion. He enjoyed an evening spent in playing and singing with his family and servants. If he chanced to hear a popular song with a pleasing tune, he often adopted it to his own words, and sang it in the family circle. Many of the hymns in his Swan-Song are said to have been composed and sung in that way.
His life was rich in trials and suffering. His first wife died just as he was preparing to go to Copenhagen for his consecration as a bishop, and the loss affected him so deeply that only the pleading of his friends prevented him from resigning the office. He later married a most excellent woman, Johanne Riese, but could never forget the wife of his youth. Several of his children preceded him in death, some of them while still in their infancy, and others in the prime of their youth. His own health was always delicate and he pa.s.sed through several severe illnesses from which his recovery was considered miraculous. His heaviest cross was, perhaps, the hopeless insanity of his first-born son, who throughout his life had to be confined to a locked and barred room as a hopeless and dangerous lunatic. A visitor in the bishop's palace, it is related, once remarked: "You speak so often about sorrows and trials, Bishop Brorson, but you have your ample income and live comfortably in this fine mansion, so how can you know about these things?" Without answering, Brorson beckoned his visitor to follow him to the graveyard where he showed him the grave of his wife and several of his children, and into the palace where he showed him the sad spectacle of his insane son. Then the visitor understood that position and material comfort are no guaranty against sorrow.
A very sensitive man, Brorson was often deeply afflicted by his trials, but though cast down, he was not downcast. The words of his own beloved hymn, "Whatever I am called to bear, I must in patience suffer," no doubt express his own att.i.tude toward the burdens of his life. His trials engendered in him, however, an intense yearning for release, especially during his later years. The hymns of his Swan-Song are eloquent testimonies of his desire to depart and be at home with G.o.d.
With the pa.s.sing years his health became progressively poorer and his weakening body less able to support the strain of his exacting office. He would listen to no plea for relaxation, however, until his decreasing strength clearly made it impossible for him to continue. Even then he refused to rest and planned to publish a series of weekly sermons that he might thus continue to speak to his people. But his strength waned so quickly that he was able to complete only one of the sermons.
On May 29, 1764, he begged a government official to complete a case before him at his earliest convenience "for I am now seventy years old, feeble, bedridden and praying for release from this unhappy world." Only a day later, his illness took a grave turn for the worse. He sank into a stupor that lasted until dusk when he awoke and said clearly, "My Jesus is praying for me in heaven. I see it by faith and am anxious to go. Come quickly, my Lord, and take me home!" He lingered until the morning of June 3, when he pa.s.sed away peacefully just as the great bells of the cathedral announced the morning service.
Several fine memorials have been raised to his memory, among them an excellent statue at the entrance to the cathedral at Ribe, and a tablet on the inside wall of the building right beside a similar remembrance of Hans Tausen, the leader of the Danish reformation and a former bishop of the diocese. But the finest memorial was raised to him by his son through the publication of Hans Adolph Brorson's Swan-Song, a collection of hymns and songs selected from his unpublished writings.
The songs of the Swan-Song were evidently written for the poet's own consolation and diversion. They are of very different types and merit, and a number of them might without loss have been left out of the collection. A few of them stand unexcelled, however, for beauty, sentiment and poetic excellence. There are songs of patience such as the inimitable: Her vil ties, her vil bies, Her vil bies, o svage Sind. Vist skal du hente, kun ved at vente, Kun ved at vente, vor Sommer ind. Her vil ties, her vil bies, Her vil bies, o svage Sind.
which one can hardly transfer to another language without marring its tender beauty. And there are songs of yearning such as the greatly favored, O Holy Ghost, my spirit With yearning longs to see Jerusalem That precious gem, Where I shall soon inherit The home prepared for me.
But O the stormy waters! How shall I find my way Mid hidden shoals, Where darkness rolls, And join thy sons and daughters Who dwell in thee for aye.
Lord, strengthen my a.s.surance Of dwelling soon with Thee, That I may brave The threatening wave With firm and calm endurance; Thyself my pilot be.
And there is "The Great White Host", most beloved of all Brorson's hymns, which Dr. Ryden, a Swedish-American Hymnologist, calls the most popular Scandinavian hymn in the English language. Several English translations of this song are available. The translation presented below is from the new English hymnal of the Danish Lutheran churches in America.
Behold the mighty, whiterobed band[8] Like thousand snowclad mountains stand With waving palms And swelling psalms Above at G.o.d's right hand. These are the heroes brave that came Through tribulation, war and flame And in the flood Of Jesus' blood Were cleansed from sin and shame. Now with the ransomed, heavenly Throng They praise the Lord in every tongue, And anthems swell Where G.o.d doth dwell Amidst the angels' song.
They braved the world's contempt and might, But see them now in glory bright With golden crowns, In priestly gowns Before the throne of light. The world oft weighed them with dismay. And tears would flow without allay, But there above The Saviour's love Has wiped their tears away. Theirs is henceforth the Sabbath rest, The Paschal banquet of the blest, Where fountains play And Christ for aye Is host as well as guest.
All hail to you, blest heroes, then! A thousand fold is now your gain That ye stood fast Unto the last And did your goal attain. Ye spurned all worldly joy and fame, And harvest now in Jesus' name What ye have sown With tears unknown Mid angels' glad acclaim. Lift up your voice, wave high your palm, Compa.s.s the heavens with your psalm: All glory be Eternally To G.o.d and to the Lamb.