Acceptable Worship Poem by John Bowring

The hymn of praise, the breath of prayer,
To Thy high mercy-seat I'll bear;
The song, the vow, shall sweetly blend,
And to Thy holy presence soar;
And reverent shall my soul adore
Thee, Guardian, Saviour, Father, Friend!


From every spot of space or time,
In every tongue and every clime,
The orisons which calmly seek
Thy presence, to Thy throne will reach;
The trembling hope, the imperfect speech,
Be welcome, as when angels speak.


The faintest breath of infant tongues
Is sweet to Thee as seraph songs;
The music of the highest sphere
Is less divine, less grateful far,
Than hymns of humble mortals are
When breaking on Thy hallowed ear.