By Isaac Watts
(The love of Christ for the church, in his language to her, and provisions for her. (Song of Sol. 8:5-13)
Now in the galleries of his grace
Appears the King, and thus he says
“How fair my saints are in my sight!
My love how pleasant for delight!”
Kind is thy language, sovereign Lord
There’s heavenly grace in every word
From that dear mouth a stream divine
Flows sweeter than the choicest wine
Such wondrous love awakes the lip
Of saints that were almost asleep
To speak the praises of thy name
And makes our cold affections flame
These are the joys he lets us know
In fields and villages below
Gives us a relish of his love
Bu keeps his noblest feast above
In Paradise within the gates
A higher entertainment waits
Fruits new and old lay up in store
Where we shall feed, but thirst no more.
I want to know the love of Christ in a depth and vibrancy in which Watts walked and understood. I pray these words stir your affections for Jesus as they have mine today.
Watts is the best! I could spend the rest of my life attempting to write new tunes to his great hymns. The church deserves a resurgence of his voice. Thanks for the good work you do, Matt, and thanks for attempting to bridge the gap between contemporary/modern worship and tradition, hymns, historical-rootedness, and theological depth.