Yea, he loved the people; all his saints are in thy hand: and they sat down at thy feet; every one shall receive of thy words.
Deuteronomy 33:3
In whatever light we view Israel of old, we see them as a type of the Church of God in this dispensation. Did God find them in Egypt in a state of bondage and slavery? Did He pity them in their ruined state and send a deliverer to rescue them from their bondage? Did He preserve them from death through the medium of the blood of the lamb sprinkled on the door posts of their houses? Thus has God dealt with His people now, has delivered them from the bondage of sin in this Egypt/world through the blood of the Lamb of God and translated them into the kingdom of His dear Son. Did God bring Israel of old into the wilderness? Did He try them and discipline them there? Did He permit foe after foe to harass them and obstruct their journey in order that they might lean upon Him and feel that without Him they were nothing? So does God deal with His people now. And finally, when all the wanderings and murmurings and trials of the desert had come to an end, did He bring them to the dark river through which they must needs pass ere they could reach Canaan, their heavenly inheritance; did He, as the Ark of Safety, remain in the midst of the flood till the feet of His people had all clean passed over? So does God now lead each one of His people through the wilderness, go with them through the dark river of death and never leave them till the weakest and feeblest of the flock are brought home to the “inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fadeth not away, reserved in heaven for you, Who are kept by the power of God through faith unto salvation…”
It is thus that truth spoken to Israel has its application to us. What was true of them naturally, historically, is true of us typically, spiritually. What was spoken to them is spoken by the same Spirit to us. While the application of these truths may differ; to an earthly people they may have an earthly application, to a heavenly people they have the same application in a spiritual sense, the great leading truths of God’s word are undispensational.
Let us look at the passage before us, and see what God says; of Himself and what He says of us.
There is a manifest division of the passage into four distinct parts, each one depending so closely and yet so beautifully on the other that if one were left out or disarranged from the order, in which the Holy Spirit has placed it, the Divine harmony would be lost and the chain broken. They are:
I. God’s love to His people;
II. The security of His people;
III. The spiritual posture of His people; and
IV. The blessing of His people.
The first statement is a most precious one, “Yea, he loved the people.” Mark, reader, when the Holy Spirit begins to teach us Divine truths, how He does it. First and foremost He begins by telling us what God is to us. He does not begin by saying anything about what we are to God. This has its place, but not yet. This has its place, but it must have something to rest on, something out of which it flows. The apostle says, “We love him;” but then he tells us out of what that flows, what our love rests upon; “because he first loved us.”2 This is the way in which the same Spirit begins in the passage under consideration. It would not have been Divine order to tell us first that “they sat down at thy feet,” or “all his saints are in thy hands,” or “every one shall receive of thy words.” No, such an order would have shown us the effect without an adequate cause; the ray without the sun, the stream without the fountain. It begins by giving us the Fountain and then shows us the three beautiful refreshing streams which flow from it–the security, the posture, and the blessing of God’s people. With this love as the cause, we can understand all. Without it, we are shrouded in mystery.
And when the Spirit of God teaches His people, this is the manner in which He does it. He first begins by telling them what God is to them. This is often the very opposite way in which men act. They begin by speaking of what man should be to God. They leave out the great motive by which he is to be influenced. We had almost thought, as we listened, that the motive was to proceed from the creature, from his sense of duty, or from a regard to his well-being in the world, or from the terrors of the judgment seat. No wonder there is perplexity and fear and uncertainty in the minds of the people of God. They are so filled with thoughts of what they ought to be to God, that the mind is full of bondage. There is within something akin to the apostle’s warning; “By the deeds of the law shall no flesh be justified before God.” They are striving to get up to God’s standard, as if their salvation depended upon it, yet never accomplishing it, and consequently, always unhappy with a trembling uncertainty of their acceptance before Him. The love of God giving peace through the blood of the Lamb, and constraining the believer to holiness of life, is the Spirit’s order. This is the order all through the Bible. This is Divine; every other is human. Let us begin by telling the poor soul what God is to him. This will melt the heart, give peace to the conscience, subdue the risings of evil habit; this will render temptation powerless, make man holy; nothing else will. The love of God in Christ Jesus, brought by the Spirit of God before the soul, is the only incentive to holiness and makes the creature happy as well as holy.
It is instructive to notice how Moses introduces God’s love to our view. He begins by recapitulating, reviewing, what God was to His people, the wondrous things He had done for them; and he concludes it with a climax and that climax the love of God: “The Lord came from Sinai, and rose up from Seir unto them; he shined forth from Mount Paran, and he came with ten thousands of saints; from his right hand went a fiery law for them. “Yea, he loved the people.” He commences on the minor key and rises to the full development, the last revelation God can make to man—His love. He begins with His doings for them, and ends with unveiling His heart. Here the great lawgiver of Israel rests. He seems to have left earth and earthly things and to have soared to the throne of the Eternal. He seems to say, ‘I can go no higher. Here would I rest, and from this lofty eminence trace the stream of blessings flowing down to my people.’ One emphatic chord is heard, reminding us of the lofty height he has reached: “Yea, he loved the people.” Stretching through centuries and generations yet unborn, we catch the echo as it finds a response in words that shall reverberate through the countless ages of eternity—“God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” The words of Moses seem as if they were a prophetic shadow; giving us first the doings of God, as characteristic of that dispensation; and closing with the love of God, as the glory of this.
He speaks of many things in this chapter; of himself and the people and all the blessings in store for them, but he traces all to this one source–the love of God. Viewing the people in this light, what could there be for them but blessing? Oh, that we could follow this blessed pattern, and before looking at ourselves or anything connected with us, look at what God is to us, look at what He has done for us, think how He has opened His heart to us, behold the sacrifice He has made for us; and then resolve it all into that same great ocean of joy–the love of God! How would our hearts then become enlarged, like that of Moses, and we should behold blessing after blessing as our portion here and hereafter. How would every feeling of doubt, uncertainty and unhappiness be banished from the heart! There would then be fewer clouds and more sunshine within; more of the quiet stream and less of the heaving of the tempestuous ocean.
The most comforting feature of the love of God is its unchanging character. Love is of God; God is love. He cannot change, neither can it. It is the same yesterday, today and forever. Time cannot change it, ingratitude cannot chill it, sin cannot turn it aside. “Having loved his own which were in the world, he loved them to the end.” As with Israel of old, so with us. It was the same when they cried out at the Red Sea, when they murmured at Meribah, when they despised the “light bread,” when they fell into idolatry and when they passed over the Jordan. They had failed, but God had never failed. Their love had changed, their footsteps had wandered, their hearts had grown hard, but God was the same. He had loved them and He loved them still. He had borne them on eagle’s wings and would bear them still. “I am the Lord,” is His own loving declaration, “I change not, therefore ye sons of Jacob are not consumed.”
What a comfort amid the world’s vicissitudes! Friends are changing, our circumstances are changing, our fondest schemes and brightest prospects are melting like vapor beneath the sun. What a changing world! Who can find a resting place below the skies? But here is a rock that remains immutable amid all the changes and chances of this mortal life—the love of God in Christ. The Christian may be like a solitary oak in the forest stripped of its branches and bowed beneath the tempests of a stormy world, yet can he clasp his hands amid the wreck and desolation around him, and exclaim:
“One there is above all others,
Oh, how He loves!
His is love beyond a brother’s
Oh, how He loves!
Earthly friends may fail or leave me,
One day soothe, the next day grieve me,
But this Friend will ne’er deceive me;
Oh, how He loves!”
Reader, are you living under a sense of God’s unchanging love? Have you looked to the cross of Christ and seen love flowing from His bruised side in streams of blood to wash away your sin? Can you now look up to God and see no frown there, but love smiling on your path? Oh, live under its refreshing shadow! Let it draw you from self, from the creature, from the world, from all—to Him. Are you wounded, does your heart bleed, is your soul cast down within you? still Jesus is love and loves you. Whatever blessing He may see good to take from you, Himself He will never take. Whatever stream of creature comfort He may see fit to dry, His own love will never fail. Live then under its grateful shade and you will be ready for every trial, to bear every cross and to pass through the valley of the shadow of death with joy.
The second truth the passage presents to us is also a precious one: “All his saints are in thy hand.” The connection between this clause and the previous one is evident. Those whom God loves He preserves. It is the law of our natural life. We study to preserve what we deeply prize. Love clasps its object to the heart and places it in the bosom where nothing can touch it without at the same time wounding itself. The weakest lamb in the flock of the good Shepherd is deeply embosomed in the love of God, and from the moment the Saviour found it, it was laid upon the shoulders of the good Shepherd, the place of strength and security. Yet how often it seems as if God’s people were left like others to walk alone, to wander and stumble and fall. At one time in paths of perplexity and distress, devising means for their deliverance, as if everything depended upon themselves; at another brought to the end of everything, on the verge of despair and the next step threatening destruction. At one time brought, in the mysterious windings of Providence, to a stand-still. At another time brought into a path apparently clear, yet every step taken seems to be wrong, every effort to be frustrated and, as if without a landmark to guide them, they had been left to breast the wind and brave the flood alone. Yet all things are ordered, all planned, all under the eye of God; every path, every step, every movement. Where we thought we were planning, it was God. Where we believed all depended upon our steps, He was overruling and directing. Not a turn or bend in our checkered history but was the result of an all wise, all gracious, ever loving God; “all his saints are in thy hand.” Their salvation, their circumstances, their wants, their trials, their joys and their sorrows; whatever shades or brightens, elevates or depresses, cheers or saddens, exalts or lays low, nothing too little for Jehovah, if it concerns His beloved child; “all his saints are in thy hand.” Precious truth! there, where nothing can ever touch them. All–the weak as well as the strong, the man of years and the infant of days, the hoary headed saint of threescore years and ten and the babe in Christ, born but yesterday; the feeble, doubting, trembling one, whose faith staggers at every step, and starts at every shadow and the one who stands in the strength of the Lord, rejoicing as a giant to run his course—“all his saints are in thy hand.” On Africa’s burning sands and Greenland’s snow capped hill, on Arabia’s desert wastes and India’s fertile plains, beside the Danube or the Thames, in the hovel or the mansion, under the kingly purple or beneath the beggar’s rags; “all his saints are in thy hand.”
Say, child of God, is not this a precious truth for your soul to grasp? Is it not a sweet resting place for the aching heart in a world like this? See that Christian mother. She has parted with all that makes earth dear to her; her only son. She has committed him in earnest prayer to Israel’s Keeper, who slumbers not nor sleeps. The tiny ship dashes onward amid the foam and the billows to a distant land. Days, weeks, months pass over, and still no tidings of her child. In anxious suspense she bends at the throne of Grace. She clasps her hands and exclaims, “O thou who art the helper of the helpless and the God of all grace, look down upon my precious child!” Oh, at such a moment, the sweetness of the words, “all his saints are in thy hand.”
Behold that Christian widow, struggling amid the foam and billows of life, with few friends, shattered health, scanty means, putting forth strained and overtaxed energies to keep her young family afloat on the world’s rough sea. See health failing, strength failing, and penury and death staring her in the face. Listen to her prayers as she bends before the mercy seat, ‘O God, my heart is overwhelmed within me, leave me not nor forsake me.’ Oh, the sweetness, at such a moment, of the Spirit’s whisper in her ears, “all his saints are in thy hand.”
See! enter that chamber. Tread softly, for the angel of death is there. On that couch lies the beloved of the heart. By her side sits one who has bent night after night in anxious suspense over the failing tabernacle. The voice grows feeble. The pulse beats languidly. The eye grows dimmer. Memory is losing its power and freshness. Oh, the anxious suspense, the throbbing’ heart, the scalding tear, the not knowing what may be on the morrow; earth’s dearest tie snapped asunder! Oh, at that moment, when flesh and heart are failing, the unutterable sweetness of those words; “all his saints are in thy hand!” Yes, in the hand of Him who loves us and who gave His life for ours, without whose will not even a sparrow can fall to the ground, and who has numbered every hair of our heads; “all his saints are in thy hand.”
The third truth is also a precious one; “They sat down at thy feet.” This is the attitude of all God’s people; they sit at the feet of Christ. They take the low place. Humility is the conspicuous garment. This is the striking evidence of their spiritual greatness. Great knowledge makes men humble. Great spirituality of mind will make Christians humble too. It is only littleness that is conceited, because littleness is full of self. The more clearly and deeply the believer apprehends what God is to him, the more humble he will be, the lower the place he will take. Like the apostle of old, he will subscribe himself, “less than the least of all saints.” This is the place all God’s people take; they sit down at His feet. There is no room for self there. There is no place for pride there, for self-righteousness, for anything that would exalt itself before God. None sit there but the empty, the poor in spirit, the one who smites upon his breast and exclaims, “God be merciful to me a sinner!” the one who is willing to be nothing that Christ may be all; these sit there. Then there are the hungry and needy, the weary and heavy laden, who have sought rest but have not found it, who have chased phantom after phantom, who have tried all the broken cisterns of the world, and have turned at last to Jesus; these sit there. There they have found rest, for He is faithful that promised it: “Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
But it is the place where we learn too. Sitting at the feet was an expression peculiar to the ancients. It was the mark of discipleship. The students in the schools of the philosophers of Greece were said to sit at the feet of Plato and Aristotle. St. Paul tells us he was brought up at the feet of Gamaliel. He was his disciple, taught in his school. So is it with believers. They sit at the feet of Christ. This is the mark of their true discipleship. They are in the school of God. It is there the Spirit teaches all His lessons, and those who do not sit there are not taught of Him. He who sits there loves to see Christ exalted. He who sits there gets nearest to the throne of God. There we learn; learn to know ourselves, learn to know Christ; and till man has been brought to sit there he never knows either. It is said of the demoniac that he was in his right mind when he sat at the feet of Jesus; never till then. So it is with every man. He is never in his right mind till he sits at the feet of Jesus. Like the prodigal in the far country, he never “comes to himself” till he has been brought to feel with him, “I have sinned against heaven.” The first work of the Spirit, and the first evidence of that work in his heart, is when he begins to feel himself a sinner. But this is a lesson only learned at the feet of Jesus. There is no place that concentrates upon itself so much blessing. There we learn, there we receive, there we take refuge. We are safe because we are low; we are happy because we are near. At the feet of Jesus, we are at the source of all strength, the fountain of all joy, the center of all blessing, yea, at the very throne of God; and no soul will find itself at the foot of the throne in heaven who is not found at the feet of the Saviour on earth.
And what a sweet place the feet of Jesus is in a time of trial! There the weary and heavy-laden find repose. There they rest. But oh! it often needs many a stroke to bring us there, many a cross, many a bitter thorn in the flesh, many a heart-crushing sorrow; yea, has God often to smite every idol, to break every cistern, to dry up every spring, to wither every gourd, and to cloud life’s loveliest landscape, ere the soul can be brought there. I may be addressing some such tried and suffering ones through these pages. Jesus has snatched from your side all that your heart so fondly leaned upon. Perhaps the idol stood between your soul and Him, and God smote it to the ground. Was it a fond, affectionate wife or husband? Was it the lovely flower that God gave you to train for Him, that stole your affections? Was it your social position, or the comforts of life by which you were surrounded, that lulled you into ease, and indifference, and forgetfulness of God? Ah! be sure, my brother or sister, there was a “needs be” for it. It stood between you and Him. He loved you too well to let it be your ruin. But now, where are you? Has the blasted gourd brought you to the feet of Jesus? Has it brought you, a poor, humble, broken-hearted prodigal, to the feet of Jesus? Say, my tried and afflicted fellow-traveler to eternity, where has it left you? Oh, if it has not brought you to the feet of Jesus, be sure if God loves you, He will, He must, send you another trial. But if it has led you to Jesus, oh, be thankful! Do not think because you are afflicted that He loves you not. It was love that smote the idol; it was love that withered the gourd; it was love that broke the cistern and embittered its pleasant waters; it was love; only love, in order to bring you to the feet of Jesus. Think not that He has forsaken or forgotten you. He that clothes the grass of the field with verdure and beauty that today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, can He ever forget you? He that provides its sustenance for the ephemeral insect that dances in the summer’s sunbeam, will He forget you? He that watches the sparrow upon the housetop and preserves it weary winged in its flight, will He forsake you, His beloved child? What though the cistern is broken, if the fountain of living waters has taken its place! What though the beautiful gourd has been blasted in a night, if the tree of life be yours! What though every star in your earthly canopy has been quenched in midnight darkness, if the Sun of righteousness has risen upon your soul! Oh nothing, if it has brought you to Jesus. Carry your burden there. Ask Him to fill the chasm in your heart with His love. Ask Him to bring you to His feet, and keep you there. There you will soon see every cloud gilded, every rod sent in love; and you will find that in bearing the cross you have put your hand upon the crown.
One point more before we pass on to the last link in this golden chain, and that is the rest that is implied in these words, “They sat down at thy feet.” Sitting down is a figure of speech conveying the idea of rest. What gives this perfect rest? The two previous truths apprehended by the soul; the love of God, and the security of the believer. It is the knowledge of what God is to the soul, and that only, that will make it sit down at the feet of Christ. Our love to Christ may bring us to His feet, but the knowledge of what He is to us will alone make us sit down there. Our love to Christ will take us to heaven, but the realizing of God’s love to us will bring much of heaven down here. The more we turn our eyes away from ourselves and everything belonging to us, and dwell on what God is to us, the more shall we sit down at the feet of Jesus, and the peace of God which passeth all understanding be the even current of our souls. Oh that every child of God reading these lines may think of this and prove its truth!
The last truth of this text is also a precious one; “Every one shall receive of thy words.” Mark, reader, how inseparably each clause of this beautiful and comprehensive verse is connected. “Yea, he loved the people; all his saints are in thy hand; and they sat down at thy feet; every one shall receive of thy words.” The connection is beautiful; the order Divine. The clauses preceding this last, however, are present truths, actual realities. This last differs; it is a promise. True God’s promises are present and actual realities; nothing so real as they are; but there is a precious distinction. This last is the closing word of the Spirit, and it leaves the believer in the place of faith. He has to listen to its echo through life. He is to live on the promise. He is to live by faith. Abraham saw not his seed as the sand of the seashore for multitude, but he believed it. He lived and acted on the promise. He went down to the grave with nothing else to lean upon but the promise. God gives His people nothing else here. They are all, like Abraham, children of faith. They have nothing to lean upon but the promises; the written word of God. These are everything to them, for they are God Himself speaking. And the last echo of the Spirit in this verse is still reverberating in our ears. It will never die away until the Lord comes, when every promise shall have its blessed fulfillment. What a comfort to hear from the lips of God himself the assurance that every child of God shall receive of His words! Whether weak in faith or strong, whether the man of years in Christ or the infant of days; “every one shall, receive of thy words.” Is there a promise of grace to help? you shall surely have it. Is there a promise of light in the darkness, of strength in the midst of weakness, of comfort in the midst of sorrow, of hope on the very verge of despair? Oh, rest assured, dear Christian sufferer, you shall surely have it; “every one shall receive of thy words.” Is there a promise that when you pass, through the waters He will be with you, through the rivers they shall not overflow you, through the fire the flame shall not kindle upon you, through the valley of the shadow of death His rod and His staff shall comfort you? be sure you shall have it; “every one shall receive of thy words.” Is there a promise that you shall soon be like Jesus, that you shall meet the loving and the loved ones with Him, where sin cannot enter and death cannot sever, that you shall have a crown, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall place upon your brow; that ere a few short years are over you shall have done forever with sinning, and wandering, and grieving, with a frail body and an evil heart and a clouded faith? Oh, be sure it shall be fulfilled in you; “every one shall receive of thy words.” Trust the promise. Live upon the promise. Clasp it to your heart now more than ever, as the end approaches. As the same great lawgiver of Israel said on another occasion when he called all Israel to witness “that not one good thing of all the Lord your God hath promised hath failed you,” so does the Spirit of God whisper now in the ear of each believer, “every one shall receive of thy words.” Precious truth! Lord, may we live upon it. May it be our light in darkness, our comfort in sorrow, our joy in tribulation, and our prop and stay in the hour of death, till the “morning without clouds” breaks upon our view.
But, Christian reader, remember you are only a receiver, from beginning to end; “every one shall receive of thy words.” You are a “vessel of mercy.” You can give nothing to God; you must receive all. You are a poor bankrupt sinner, and every step of your way to heaven a debtor to sovereign grace. A child of God spiritually proud! proud of his gifts or graces, of his talents or attainments, of his learning or endowments, of his wealth, or rank, or station! Poor worm of the dust, what hast thou to be proud of? What hast thou that thou didst not receive? What hast thou to be proud of? An evil heart, a sinful nature, a rebellious will. What hast thou to be proud of? An earthly spirit, a worldly mind, a transgressing step. What hast thou to be proud of? A frail body, a lump of clay, a corpse, a coffin, a shroud, a grave! What hast thou to be proud of? Oh, bend at the cross of Jesus. Sit down at His feet. Take thy motto for life—
“I’m a poor sinner, and nothing at all.”
At the end of every grace, and every prayer, and every duty, and every gift and endowment, the brightest and best, write; “I am less than the least of all saints;” “I am the chief of sinners.”
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee.
Reader, have you been brought to this? You must, if your soul is to be saved. You must, if you do not wish your portion to be the undying worm, the fire that is not quenched, the blackness of darkness, forever. You must, if you want to know either yourself or Christ. You must, if God is to be glorified in you. You must be emptied, entirely emptied, consciously emptied, or else you can never enter the Kingdom of heaven. An empty sinner and a full Saviour travel hand in hand, step by step, to glory. With no other will He walk. Come then to the feet of Jesus, and the promise,’ the blessed, unfailing promise shall be yours, “every one shall receive of thy words.”
Christian reader, sit at the feet of Jesus. Drink deeply of God’s love to you. Think of your everlasting security in that love. Turn away your eyes from yourself, and dwell on what God is to you. This will make you come to the feet of Jesus and sit down there. Empty yourself daily at His feet. Walk in obedience to God’s commands. Resist not the promptings of His Spirit within you. By all the love you profess to the Saviour, walk as an obedient disciple: then will you enter into the fullness and preciousness of these words. An entrance will be administered to you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. You will have the Spirit bearing witness with your spirit that you are a son of God, and that all these blessings are your portion. “Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.” “Hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown.”
Is God for me? I fear not, though all against me rise;
When I call on Christ my Saviour, the host of evil flies;
My friend the Lord Almighty, and He who loves me—God,
What enemy shall harm me, though coming as a flood?
I know it, I believe it, I say it fearlessly,
That God, the highest, mightiest, forever loveth me.
At all times, in all places, He standeth at my side;
He rules the battle fury, the tempest and the tide.
A rock that stands forever is Christ my righteousness,
And there I stand unfearing in everlasting bliss;
No earthly thing is needful to this my life from heaven,
And nought of love is worthy, save that which Christ has given;
Christ, all my praise and glory, my light most sweet and fair,
The ship wherein He saileth is scathless everywhere.
In Him I dare be joyful, as a hero in the war;
The judgment of the sinner affrighteth me no more.
There is no condemnation, there is no hell for me,
The torment and the fire my eyes shall never see;
For me there is no sentence, for me has death no sting,
Because the Lord who loves me shall shield me with His wing.
Above my soul’s dark waters His Spirit hovers still,
He guards me from all sorrows, from terror and from ill;
In me He works, and blesses the life-seed He has sown,
From Him I learn the “Abba,” that prayer of faith alone.
And if in lonely places, a fearful child I shrink,
He prays the prayers within me I cannot ask or think,
The deep unspoken language known only to that Love
Who fathoms the heart’s mystery from the throne of light above.
His Spirit to my spirit sweet words of comfort saith,
How God the weak one strengthens who leans on Him in faith,
How He hath built a city of love, and light, and song,
Where the eye at last beholdeth what the heart had loved so long.
And there is mine inheritance, my kingly palace-home:
The leaf may fall and perish, not less the spring will come;
Like wind and rain of winter, our earthly sighs and tears,
Till the golden summer dawneth of the endless year of years.
The world may pass and perish, Thou, God, wilt not remove,
No hatred of all devils can part me from Thy love;
No hungering nor thirsting, no poverty nor care,
No wrath of mighty princes can reach my shelter there;
No angel and no heaven, no throne, nor power, nor might,
No love, no tribulation, no danger, fear, nor fight,
No height, no depth, no creature that has been or can be,
Can drive me from Thy bosom, can sever me from Thee;
My heart in joy upleapeth, grief cannot linger there,
She singeth high in glory amidst the sunshine fair;
The Sun that shines upon me is Jesus and His love;
The fountain of my singing is deep in heaven above.
Paul Gerhardt (1607–1676)
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