Poem by William Blane
The Sacred Hour O tell me not of worldly lore And treasures of the earth! To him who draws from Heaven’s store They can be little worth. I sail a sea of Love divine, Unfathomed and unbound; I search a deep and wealthy mine Where gems of Heaven are found. The Spirit’s breezes gently blow That I may sail this sea; His is the light to search and show God’s deep, deep things to me. O Book of wondrous depths and heights, Of wisdom ever new, Which in ten thousand various lights Brings Jesus into view; Whatever truths in thee I trace New aspects meet mine eye, And of His glory and His grace Page unto page doth cry! Of Science and Philosophy I’ve heard the spreading fame; They’re broad and deep, and urged, they say, By many a pressing claim. ‘Tis said Philosophy hath charms Which prove celestial birth; That Science, with distended arms, Grasps heaven in grasping earth. I know not; neither have I tried Their claims to disallow; ...