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L. M.

Christ's ascension, and the gift of the Spirit.


Lord, when thou didst ascend on high,

Ten thousand angels filled the sky;

Those heav'nly guards around thee wait,

Like chariots that attend thy state.

Not Sinai's mountain could appear

More glorious when the Lord was there;

While he pronounced his dreadful law,

And struck the chosen tribes with awe.

How bright the triumph none can tell,

When the rebellious powers of hell,

That thousand souls had captive made,

Were all in chains like captives led.

Raised by his Father to the throne,

He sent the promised Spirit down

With gifts and grace for rebel men,

That God might dwell on earth again.

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