POETRY.
TRINITY SUNDAY.
Is the year that King Uzziah died, (The years come in, the years go out) When daylight drew to eventide And darkness filled the ways with doubt, I heard ten thousand trumpets blown, I saw the temple veil divide, I saw the Lord upon His Throne In the year that King Uzziah died. The train of six-winged Seraphim
• Before His face in ,wonder stood, They rolled a multitudinous hymn Across the fiery crystal flood.
A million tongues in vast accord, I heard them, " Holy Lord " they cried, And "Holy, Holy, Holy Lord," In the year that King Uzziah died.
Then rose the eternal Light of Light In midnight of my Soul's eclipse, I dared not raise my head for fright, I was a man of unclean lips.
An angel brought a coal in tongs To purge my lips with altar fire, Thou too shalt learn the Song of Songs, The " Holy, Holy" of the Choir.
The veil was rent, the door-post shook, And all the House was filled with smoke, The Angel raised my head to look, The Seraphs chanted and I woke.
But still I hear the triumph shout, The " Holy, Holy," how they cried: (The years come in, the years go out) That was the year Uzziah died.
Previous page
