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Rev. Gregory McCammon | Gilford, Northern Ireland
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http://www.gilfordfreepresbyterianchurch.org
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Ebenezer Free Presbyterian Church
Dunbarton Street
Gilford
County Down BT63 6HJ
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Sir Robert Grant 1779-1838
THURSDAY, JULY 9, 2020
Posted by: Ebenezer Free Presbyterian Church | more..
620+ views | 110+ clicks
Hebrews 4:15, “For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin.”

The famous hymn, “O Worship the King” was written by Sir Robert Grant, a Scottish Anglican. He was born in India in 1779. His father Charles was a strong evangelical in the Church of England and was an ardent supporter of William Wilberforce, the effectual opponent of slavery.

Robert became a distinguished lawyer, serving as a member of Parliament for Inverness. He became a judge advocate general and governor of Bombay. He wrote this hymn in 1833, a year before being appointed Governor of Bombay. In that position he remained until his death on this day, 9th July 1838.

Robert loved to pen poetry based on Scripture texts. Most of these were published after his death in 1839, in a volume edited by his brother, Lord Glenelg.

He penned a lovely poem on the words of Hebrews 4:15.

1 When gathering clouds around I view,

And days are dark, and friends are few,

On Him I lean, who, not in vain.

Experienced every human pain;

He sees my wants, allays my fears,

And counts and treasures up my tears.

2 If aught should tempt my soul to stray

From heavenly wisdom's narrow way.

To fly the good I would pursue.

Or do the sin I would not do —

Still He, who felt temptation's power,

Shall guard me in that dangerous hour.

3 If wounded love my bosom swell,

Deceived by those I prized too well —

He shall His pitying aid bestow

Who felt on earth severer woe,

At once betrayed, denied, or fled,

By those who shared His daily bread.

4 If vexing thoughts within me rise,

And sore dismayed my spirit dies,

Still He who once vouchsafed to bear

The sickening anguish of despair.

Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry,

The throbbing heart, the streaming eye.

5 When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend,

Which covers what was once a friend,

And from his voice, his hand, his smile,

Divides me — for a little while;

Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed.

For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead.

6 And O, when I have safely past

Through every conflict — but the last,

Still, still unchanging, watch beside

My painful bed — for Thou hast died;

Then point to realms of cloudless day,

And wipe the latest tear away!

“And now, poor, trembling, doubting souls, what hinders but you should raise up your drooping head, and take courage? May you not venture your souls into such compassionate and faithful hands?” (Samuel Davies 1723-1761)

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