Last Days Poetry
Sun of My Soul
by John Keble; additional modifications and verses by Jordan Fraker (elder) and Sean Sanders
He raised our fathers and short they fell
Sincere his pleas but no avail
When shall these promises-recasted be
Or who of us our signs can see?
Yet scripture’s final fulfillment foretells
A raised Joshua, Zerubbabel
Still weak, but crying grace to thee
Raised from the stones -- gentile he'll be!
But fallen, blinded, the Gentiles sleep
seduced by spirits to worship the beast
And hell as locust plagues arise
to hide Thee from Thy servants’ eyes.
Sun of my soul, Thou Savior dear,
Though it be night yet Thou art near;
be Thou my Stay-- my Hold -Thy breast!
My Fear, my Dread, and yet my Rest!
Abide with me amidst Thy sieve,
Not just endure — by exploits to live!
abide in me and sound the Cry
And seal Thy witness as I die.
‘Tis incense sweet accounted by Thee
sheep for slaughter, as victors we be
Those knowing not, who do us slay--
Our resurrection's days away!
by John Keble; additional modifications and verses by Jordan Fraker (elder) and Sean Sanders
He raised our fathers and short they fell
Sincere his pleas but no avail
When shall these promises-recasted be
Or who of us our signs can see?
Yet scripture’s final fulfillment foretells
A raised Joshua, Zerubbabel
Still weak, but crying grace to thee
Raised from the stones -- gentile he'll be!
But fallen, blinded, the Gentiles sleep
seduced by spirits to worship the beast
And hell as locust plagues arise
to hide Thee from Thy servants’ eyes.
Sun of my soul, Thou Savior dear,
Though it be night yet Thou art near;
be Thou my Stay-- my Hold -Thy breast!
My Fear, my Dread, and yet my Rest!
Abide with me amidst Thy sieve,
Not just endure — by exploits to live!
abide in me and sound the Cry
And seal Thy witness as I die.
‘Tis incense sweet accounted by Thee
sheep for slaughter, as victors we be
Those knowing not, who do us slay--
Our resurrection's days away!
