HYMN VIII.
G. R. G. (George Richard Gould) Pughe translation
“Fountains of waters of life” Rev. vii., 17.
“Llwybr cwbl groes i natur”
Constantly beset with crosses Though my present progress be, Disappointment, pain and losses Point my pilgrimage to Thee. Through the trough of tribulation Roughly runs the narrow road, But its happy termination Is the city of My God.
Lord! upon my faded visage Reimprint Thy stamp, I pray, So shall Satan from Thine image Flee discomfited away. Like the fragrant ointment flowing Down the dress of Aaron Is the blessedness of knowing Thee through Thy Beloved Son.
Dissipate the clouds of darkness Now enveloping Thy Face; And irradiate with gladness My cold heart, O God of grace! Thy redemption, as a river, One fell Friday flowed for me Once for all, and once for ever, From the crest of Calvary.
Silently, yet surely giving Solace to humanity. That same river, rich in living Water, still distils for me. It is able to completely Wash the Ethiopian Whiter than the snow and sweetly Purify the publican.
Would that we, defaulting paupers, Oftener took heed to see That we need these healing waters Offered thus abundantly! O that we would live rejecting Earth’s inanities and try To be patiently expecting Till redemption draweth nigh!