Sabbath Poem 18 Nov 18

Cf. Psalm 2

Across all time, and in every age,

Though kingdoms curse and rulers rage,

Though many men and nations great

Your laws abhor, Your mercies hate,

Upon Your throne, Your humor high,

Their plans You mock: their doom* is nigh.

They raise their flags, their gauntlets throw.

Upon Your king, true pow’r bestow.

*Doom in the sense of fate, not of destruction

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