Christ the Heir of all things

IN regions of approachless light
There sits th' eternal King;
Wherein mixt joys with love unites,
From whom all riches spring.

There dost thou sit on thy high Throne,
And all subject to thee;
Yea, and all worlds, Lord, are thine own,
And what else there can be.

A Son thou hast also brought forth
(Who is thy only Heir)
Begotten long before the Earth
Or Heavens did appear.

He is thy joy and hearts delight,
By whom all things were made;
He always stands in thy own sight,
Whose glories ne're shall fade.

And as he makes thy heart full glad,
So all perfections meet
In him who is with glory clad,
Whose love is ever sweet.

He is thine Heir, into his hand
All things, Lord, thou hast given,
That so he might have sole command
O're Earth and also Heaven.

He's cloathed with such dignity,
Has such a glorious name,
That he's above each Monarchy,
There's none dares once lay claim

To his Titles; each Seraphim
Do readily submit;
The Cherubims do worship him,
And fall down at his feet.

The Second Part.

'Tis Christ, and only Christ does bear
Thy likeness in each thing;
Thy express Image doth appear
In this our glorious King.

'Tis thou, bless'd Jesus, who dost raise
Thy Father's House so high;
The stress of all on thee he lays,
Of his whole Family.

In thee all treasures hidden are
Of grace and wisdom too;
And all because thou art his Heir,
From thee all riches flow.

Thou portions therefore dost give sorth
To all given to thee,
Who witness do all the new birth,
And Sons adopted be;

And so made Heirs, and shall possess
With thee a glorious share
Of that eternal blessedness
Of which thou art the Heir.

All things were thine as thou art God,
But unto thee are given
(As thou the Mediator art)
By the great God of Heaven.

O how art thou, Lord, honoured,
Who would not fall in love
With thee whose glories thus are spread
Below, also above.

O happy choice ye Saints have made,
Who marry'd have the Heir;
Soon ye shall the possession have,
And glorious all appear.

Then never doubt of all supply,
Ye precious Saints of his;
He will you no good thing deny,
What happiness like this.

O then with a melodious voice
Together do ye sing,
Since he has made of you his choice,
Praise ye the glorious King.