He Left It In Thy Power, Ordaind

What Better Can We Do Than Prostrate Fall Before Him Reverent, And There Confess Humbly Our Faults, And Pardon Beg With Tears Watering The Ground?

But Who Is This, What Thing Of Sea Or Land,- Female Of Sex It Seems,- That So Bedeck'd, Ornate, And Gay, Comes This Way Sailing Like A Stately Ship Of Tarsus, Bound For Th' Isles Of Javan Or Gadire, With All Her Bravery On, And Tackle Trim, Sails Fill'd, And Streamers Waving, Courted By All The Winds That Hold Them Play, An Amber Scent Of Odorous Perfume Her Harbinger?

At His Birth A Star, Unseen Before In Heaven, Proclaims Him Come.

Satan; So Call Him Now, His Former Name Is Heard No More In Heaven.

He 's Gone, And Who Knows How He May Report Thy Words By Adding Fuel To The Flame?