Udgorn Seion, 1853 (Vol.
5):273-76
THE
PRESIDENCY OF THE SAINTS IN WALES.
The
earliest
bards were accustomed to praising
The Priesthood
which stood at the dawn of the world;
The sons of
the Godhead were full of rejoicing,
As the world
was created, and so sang as one:
The message of
Moses remains a sound witness
To the saving
in gladness that Israel
received;
Yet glory
shines outward a thousand times brighter,
In
the radiant refrain of the Lamb’s epic song.
The old saints
of Palestine so
sweetly addressed,
In
praise-laden psalms those who served well their Lord;
Yet sweeter to
us, as the children of Wales,
Is payment of
homage to our President’s post;
This Pastoral
role wishes to give us our fill
Of holiest
truth, to develop the flock;
Not life and
not death of themselves will suffice
To
keep us in safety from the jaws of the wolf.
You people of
the Verdant Isle should now rejoice,
From the land
of our bondage we shall be set free;
The dawn has
now broken on the darkest of hues,
The sun has
burst forth at the bright break of day;
The beast of
oppression and the lord of mis-rule
Is left now in
anguish, his hideout revealed;
Full rivers of
tears and of sadness shall cease,
Old Satan
himself will be swiftly constrained.
A period of
joy has descended on Wales,
With vibrant
Apostles of strength in our midst;
Her
own sons, ordained, are thereby at hand
And thousands
rejoice in receiving their news;
To Phillips
and Davis and Jones we make hail
While Zion is clothed in a
matchless array;
And blessings
like dewdrops on meadows of green
On Jeremy and
Daniels pour forth their refrain.
Oh, Wales,
those false guardians of your ruinous walls,
Are made to
feel shame in heaven’s bright light;
Oh, daughter
of Zion your
towers are manned
By excellent
watchers, for which now give thanks.
If the
Presidency is seen, to the Britons’ great pride,
Leading its
armies to encounter the foe,
It’s a
Presidency of life with Jesus its head,
His blessing a
banner, for Wales
now unfurled.
Gleaming and
sturdy in Zion
are built
Three
well-ordered pillars, their aspect so fine;
In courage, as
pride of the Britons, they stand,
And of Joseph’s
God in bold facts they proclaim;
They stand as
bright symbols of heavenly truth
And in their
surroundings great wonders will grow;
Their message,
like fire, will set Wales
ablaze
To
the envy and rage of the arrogant throng.
This noble
Priesthood has clothed them in honor,
Sincerity of
purpose is what swells their heart;
Their
purposeful nature now sets them on course
To capture the
leadership of Wales
as a whole;
To them every
bitter reproach is a boon,
And each
persecution brings forth a broad smile;
The wrath of
dark powers explains their delight,
At grim,
hellish malice they respond with bold mirth.
The strength
of God’s Priesthood, eternal and firm,
Overwhelms the
vainglory of all earthly realms;
And powerful
empires are seen to decay,
Their comforts
all perishing as in a day:
Brave race of
the Welshman, break forth into song,
The angel has
stirred at the centre of heaven,
Eternity’s
gospel echoes through Wales,
Salvation is
come—it’s a day of new life.
Mount Cumorah stands now as
the fountain of truth
And Justice
from heaven has shown us its face,
Both mercy and
peace to this world are made known
And a garden
is made of a desolate place;
The darkest
recesses in this land
of Wales
Are governed
by Truth to the blessing of all;
The stealth
and oppression of sects is exposed
Its heavenly
rays giving light to the land.
The stem of
fairest Judah
is brought low
By those who
blacken its repute with many tales;
Their copious
errors, like a river in its course,
Cover the
earth with dark, polluted streams;
But see! the root of Ephraim, hidden long,
Rare gem of
latter days, is now displayed;
By our Prophet’s
hand it is brought into view,
Its texts once
more by Joseph are revealed.
No sooner was
its godly message known
Than worldly
scholars swelled with furious rage,
For they could
see an end to all their trade,
As Babel’s tower shook from
head to toe;
Both tablets
are now widely with the poor,
And they can
read God’s word without a veil;
The God of
Zion’s purpose is made clear,
To
save the guilty to eternal life.
The covers
that obstructed men are shred
Together with
the darkness many knew,
And Joseph’s
remnant, having been adrift,
From its
dispersal is brought home again;
Lost northern
tribes are homeward bound once more,
To icy cells
true freedom will extend;
The Lord from
heaven, in glory, will descend,
His radiance
will melt even icy peaks.
And while a
Welshman’s heart still beats he can’t
Forget our
striving presidents at work;
Who else in Wales has been
so brave, I ask,
Has worked so
hard to raise this nation’s state?
A Presidency
crowned—and still being crowned—
With matchless
feats unlike all seen before;
A Presidency
marked by highest praise
And
standing by its monumental toil.
O, Wales,
which other country is like you,
Beneath the
highest heaven so richly blessed?
In Zion’s furthest cities your renown
Is celebrated
and is widely famed;
Your literary
stalwarts have excelled,
And wisdom
by
your press is widely spread;
From palace to
the humblest, poorest home
Your writers’ voice
is
heard by one and all.
The heavenly “Doctrine”
and the “Covenants” as well,
The “Book of
Mormon” also—finest in the world;
Are read now
in our forebears’ tongue,—
For which the
Saints of Wales rejoice as one.
So many
college scholars stand amazed,
And Babylonia’s bitterest pale in shame:
Their teaching
gifts retreat and disappear
As
with a vapor that’s dispelled by light.
This maiden
once, in tender years, was viewed
With scorn and
also cursed by Babel’s
brood,
But now she is
adorned to meet her Groom,
And
stands in radiant beauty, finely clothed.
Her splendor
drives and speeds a poisonous ire
In the sons of
the beast who have such haughty ways;
And all the
daughters of the whore are likewise pained,
With
groaning, anguish, worry and dismay.
Philistine
hordes in chaos and distress
Are scattered
wide by “Zion’s
Trumpet” call;
The voice of
truth heard on the Britons’ lips,
Has
caused them all to run in fear and dread.
Precious
deliverance will soon become the prize
And crowning
glory of the steadfast and the good;
Our enemy’s
strength will thoroughly be trounced
And Zion’s daughter then will
certainly rejoice!
Intent on
printing this work—am I,
With no delay,
and promptly;
This is my
quest, and this is my song,
To be mindful of its completion.
Dewi Elfed.
