Christ My Song - 840
At the Lord's right hand there are pleasures - The divine love
(Frances Bevan/Johannes Thomas Rüegg)
The divine love.
1. At the Lord's right hand there are pleasures,
there are treasures for evermore –
in the depths of thy glory are treasures,
a measureless, priceless store.
O God, we have shared thy pleasures,
thy treasures of countless price,
those joys that no thought can measure,
for all are Christ. (PDF - Midi)
2. That cup of thy love and gladness
has cheered us along the road,
through ages of sin and of sadness
partaking the joys of God –
through thy Spirit sent down from heaven
thy Christ to our hearts is dear;
the Spirit who tells of his sweetness
is with us here.
3. Thus false though our hearts and faithless,
we love him with love divine –
with a love that is true and scatheless,
for it is not ours, but thine.
Thy love from our hearts outflowing,
its source in the Heavens above,
that love of thine own bestowing
4. O God, with thy love we love him,
and thus are our praises sweet,
a fragrance that fills the heavens,
as we fall before his feet.
Our God, of thine own we give thee,
and thine is the golden store –
what are we that we thus can offer,
can thus adore!
5. Our heart and our flesh my fail us,
and the mists of sin may rise;
they may hide the land of the glory
from our faithless wandering eyes;
but the Spirit within us fails not
for ever to tell of him;
and his Face is seen in its beauty
when all is dim.
6. In the dungeons and in the deserts
have thy saints by the world despised,
with joy untold and unmeasured,
lookèd on the Face of Christ.
In the torture or in the fire,
'midst the scorn and the hate of men,
they have seen but the light of his presence
around them then.
7. O Lord, we adore and we bless thee,
that we in thy hands of might
are the chords whereupon thou makest
the music of thy delight;
whereon thou wilt sound for ever
in wondrous and glorious tone,
the name of thy Son belovèd
his name alone.
8. What recks it that cold and worthless
and wayworn my heart may be,
if the love that came down from heaven
flows back to the Lord from me?
A glorious tide of worship,
unsilenced by sin and by death,
sweet melody made in the cornet,
by God's own breath.
Frances Bevan, Hymns of Ter Steegen, Suso and others 1, 1899, 120-122.
(6,4: originally "looked" without `.)