Here is the rather fine table at which the Queen will be seated for our meeting. It looks as though she is planning to offer me a goblet of wine and some fruit.
Let us, with a gladsome mind,
Praise the Lord, for He is kind.
Refrain
For His mercies aye endure,
Ever faithful, ever sure.
Let us blaze His Name abroad,
For of gods He is the God.
Refrain
He with all commanding might
Filled the new made world with light.
Refrain
He hath, with a piteous eye,
Looked upon our misery.
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He the golden tressèd sun
Caused all day his course to run.
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Th’horned moon to shine by night;
’Mid her spangled sisters bright.
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All things living He doth feed,
His full hand supplies their need.
Refrain
Let us, with a gladsome mind,
Praise the Lord, for He is kind.
I found the Lady in Waiting who looked after the Queen's Bedchamber far more pleasant than the one in the Inner Court. She just smiled benignly when I said I wanted to see the Queen.
Immortal love, forever full,
forever flowing free,
forever shared, forever whole,
a never ebbing sea!
Our outward lips confess the name
all other names above;
love only knoweth whence it came,
and comprehendeth love.
We may not climb the heavenly steeps
to bring the Lord Christ down;
In vain we search the lowest deeps,
for him no depths can drown.
But warm, sweet, tender, even yet,
a present help is he;
and faith still has its Olivet,
and love its Galilee.
The healing of his seamless dress
is by our beds of pain;
we touch him in life's throng and press,
and we are whole again.
Through him the first fond prayers are said
our lips of childhood frame,
the last low whispers of our dead
are burdened with his Name.
Alone, O Love ineffable,
Thy saving name is given
To turn aside from thee is hell,
To walk with thee is heaven.
I know you thought I was joking when I said I entered the Queen's bedchamber - but I was not!
This room was reserved for the Queen and her most important visitors. The great state bed was symbolic - she slept in a small room nearby.
Here we see the glorious state bed.
Glory to thee, my God, this night,
for all the blessings of the light:
keep me, O keep me, King of kings,
beneath thine own almighty wings.
Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,
the ill that I this day have done;
that with the world, myself, and thee,
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.
Teach me to live, that I may dread
the grave as little as my bed;
teach me to die, that so I may
rise glorious at the awful day.
O may my soul on thee repose,
and with sweet sleep mine eyelids close;
sleep that shall me more vigorous make
to serve my God when I awake.
When in the night I sleepless lie,
my soul with heavenly thoughts supply;
let no ill dreams disturb my rest,
no powers of darkness me molest.
Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;
praise him, all creatures here below;
praise him above, ye heavenly host:
praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.
The Lady in Waiting is being far from helpful, and picks up a unicorn horn in order to defend the Queen. However, whilst she has her back turned, I spot an opportunity to enter the Queen's Bedchamber!
Stand up, stand up for Jesus, ye soldiers of the cross;
Lift high His royal banner, it must not suffer loss.
From victory unto victory His army shall He lead,
Till every foe is vanquished, and Christ is Lord indeed.
Stand up, stand up for Jesus, the solemn watchword hear;
If while ye sleep He suffers, away with shame and fear;
Where’er ye meet with evil, within you or without,
Charge for the God of battles, and put the foe to rout.
Stand up, stand up for Jesus, the trumpet call obey;
Forth to the mighty conflict, in this His glorious day.
Ye that are brave now serve Him against unnumbered foes;
Let courage rise with danger, and strength to strength oppose.
Stand up, stand up for Jesus, stand in His strength alone;
The arm of flesh will fail you, ye dare not trust your own.
Put on the Gospel armour, each piece put on with prayer;
Where duty calls or danger, be never wanting there.
Stand up, stand up for Jesus, each soldier to his post,
Close up the broken column, and shout through all the host:
Make good the loss so heavy, in those that still remain,
And prove to all around you that death itself is gain.
Stand up, stand up for Jesus, the strife will not be long;
This day the noise of battle, the next the victor’s song.
To those who vanquish evil a crown of life shall be;
They with the King of Glory shall reign eternally.
THIS BLOG WISHES HRH PRINCE PHILIP (THE DUKE OF EDINBURGH) A VERY HAPPY 91ST BIRTHDAY.
Today we give thanks for the institution of the Eucharist.
Lord, enthroned in heavenly splendor,
first-begotten from the dead.
Thou alone, our strong defender,
liftest up thy people's head.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Jesus, true and living bread!
Here our humblest homage pay we,
here in loving reverence bow;
here for faith's discernment pray we,
lest we fail to know thee now.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thou art here, we ask not how.
Though the lowliest form doth veil thee
as of old in Bethlehem,
here as there thine angels hail thee,
branch and flower of Jesse's stem.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
We in worship join with them.
Paschal Lamb, thine offering, finished
once for all when thou was slain,
in its fullness undiminished
shall for evermore remain.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Cleansing souls from every stain.
Life-imparting heavenly Manna,
stricken Rock with streaming side,
heaven and earth with loud hosanna
worship thee, the Lamb who died.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Risen, ascended, glorified!
Good News! Prince Philip was discharged from hospital at lunchtime today - just in time for his 91st birthday which is tomorrow.
In this tapestry, the unicorn represents Christ. Note that the unicorn has been slain - there are wounds in its feet, its side has been pierced with a spear, and it is wearing a crown of thorns. I have much on which to meditate as I await the arrival of the Queen.
The royal banners forward go,
the cross shines forth in mystic glow;
where he in flesh, our flesh who made,
our sentence bore, our ransom paid.
Where deep for us the spear was dyed,
life's torrent rushing from his side,
to wash us in that precious flood,
where mingled water flowed, and blood.
Fulfilled is all that David told
in true prophetic song of old,
amidst the nations, God, saith he,
hath reigned and triumphed from the tree.
O tree of beauty, tree of light!
O tree with royal purple dight!
Elect on whose triumphal breast
those holy limbs should find their rest.
Blest tree, whose chosen branches bore
the wealth that did the world restore,
the price of humankind to pay,
and spoil the spoiler of his prey.
Upon its arms, like balance true,
he weighed the price for sinners due,
the price which none but he could pay,
and spoiled the spoiler of his prey.
O cross, our one reliance, hail!
Still may thy power with us avail
to give new virtue to the saint,
and pardon to the penitent.
To thee, eternal Three in One,
let homage meet by all be done:
whom by the cross thou dost restore,
preserve and govern evermore. Amen.
Still waiting, so I shall have to admire one of the magnificent tapestries hanging in the Queen's Inner Hall.
The Queen was deeply religious, and these tapestries are meant to represent the passion, death and resurrection of Christ.
Crown Him with many crowns, the Lamb upon His throne.
Hark! How the heavenly anthem drowns all music but its own.
Awake, my soul, and sing of Him who died for thee,
And hail Him as thy matchless King through all eternity.
Crown Him the virgin’s Son, the God incarnate born,
Whose arm those crimson trophies won which now His brow adorn;
Fruit of the mystic rose, as of that rose the stem;
The root whence mercy ever flows, the Babe of Bethlehem.
Crown Him the Son of God, before the worlds began,
And ye who tread where He hath trod, crown Him the Son of Man;
Who every grief hath known that wrings the human breast,
And takes and bears them for His own, that all in Him may rest.
Crown Him the Lord of life, who triumphed over the grave,
And rose victorious in the strife for those He came to save.
His glories now we sing, Who died, and rose on high,
Who died eternal life to bring, and lives that death may die.
Crown Him the Lord of peace, Whose power a sceptre sways
From pole to pole, that wars may cease, and all be prayer and praise.
His reign shall know no end, and round His piercèd feet
Fair flowers of paradise extend their fragrance ever sweet.
Crown Him the Lord of love, behold His hands and side,
Those wounds, yet visible above, in beauty glorified.
No angel in the sky can fully bear that sight,
But downward bends his burning eye at mysteries so bright.
Crown Him the Lord of Heaven, enthroned in worlds above,
Crown Him the King to Whom is given the wondrous name of Love.
Crown Him with many crowns, as thrones before Him fall;
Crown Him, ye kings, with many crowns, for He is King of all.
Crown Him the Lord of lords, who over all doth reign,
Who once on earth, the incarnate Word, for ransomed sinners slain,
Now lives in realms of light, where saints with angels sing
Their songs before Him day and night, their God, Redeemer, King.
Crown Him the Lord of years, the Potentate of time,
Creator of the rolling spheres, ineffably sublime.
All hail, Redeemer, hail! For Thou has died for me;
Thy praise and glory shall not fail throughout eternity.
