A Goodly Theme Is Mine

A good­ly theme is mine

And ea­ger­ly I sing;

For boun­te­ous words flow from my lips

As I sa­lute the King.

Supremely fair He is

In beau­ty peer­less He;

For Him the fa­vor of the Lord

Doth grace eter­nal­ly.

Gird on Thy sword

O King

Put on Thy ma­jes­ty;

Ride out in full re­gal­ia

And rich­est pa­no­ply.

Triumph in ve­ry truth

In meek­ness and in right

Let fly the ar­rows of re­venge

And van­quish in Thy might.

Thy throne is ev­er sure

Establishèd of God;

Its scep­ter is of right­eous­ness

Of equ­ity its rod.

Thou lov­est per­fect right

Hatest ini­qui­ty;

Therefore with oil of fest­ive joy

The Lord an­oint­ed Thee.

Thy gar­ments breathe of myrrh

Of spic­es rich and rare;

Glad strains of joy­ous mu­sic ring

Throughout Thy pal­ace fair.

Amid Thy glo­ri­ous train

King’s daugh­ters wait­ing stand

And on Thy right the queen ad­orned

In gold from Ophir land.

O roy­al bride

give heed

This King is now thy Lord;

Forsake thy for­mer loy­al­ties

Full feal­ty ac­cord.

Thy beau­ty and thy grace

Will then de­light the King;

And they to thee

since thou art His

Their pre­cious gifts will bring.

Enthroned in roy­al state

And glo­ri­ous thou shalt dwell

With gar­ments fair

in­wrought with gold

His bride He lov­eth well.

And they who hon­or thee

Shall in thy train at­tend

And to the pal­ace of the King

Shall jo­yful­ly as­cend.

Then in Thy Fa­ther’s place

The sons of roy­al birth

Thou wilt en­dow with re­gal gifts

As princ­es of the earth.

Thy name shall be pro­claimed

Through all suc­ceed­ing days

And all the peo­ples ev­ery­where

Shall give Thee end­less praise.