Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HYMNARY: 389. FESTIVALS OF APOSTLES, by JEAN BAPTISTE SANTEUIL


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE HYMNARY: 389. FESTIVALS OF APOSTLES, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: O lord, through instruments how weak
Last Line: In darkness to thy glorious light.
Subject(s): Apostles; Bible; Disciples, Twelve


OLORD, through instruments how weak
Thou workest out Thy sovereign will!
Frail earthen vessels Thou dost seek,
And with Thy choicest treasure fill.

And in due time the pitchers, charged
With light, Thou dost in pieces dash;
And thence the light breaks forth, enlarged,
As from the cloud the prisoned flash.

O'er earth Thy messengers are heard;
They haste like clouds before the gale;
Fraught with the Word, the sacred Word,
They pour forth thunder, lightning, hail.

Christ is their war-cry: at its sound
Are hell's proud citadels laid low:
So, while the trumpets clanged around,
Fell once the walls of Jericho.

Lord, let these trumpet blasts divine
From treacherous sleep awake mankind;
And let these lights, erst lit at Thine,
Disperse the darkness of our mind.

To Thee, on Thy Apostle's day,
We pay all worship, God of might:
For thou hast called us that lay
In darkness to Thy Glorious light.





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