Poetry
Honey-Drops, or Crystal Streams Flowing from Christ
David Dickson was a Scottish Presbyterian minister, theologian, and professor of divinity at the universities of Glasgow and Edinburgh. He was a leading figure in the Covenanting movement and known for his pastoral warmth and biblical exposition. His religious poetry, including this piece, captures the experiential sweetness of Reformed faith — doctrine felt as well as believed.
Lines used in the track
Yea, everlasting kindness, I, and favour hope to find.
Then I'll begin to banish sin, contemning worldly toys;
With wings I'll fly and soar on high, seeking for heav'nly joys.
Dickson's poem is a first-person declaration of trust in Christ — moving from longing to assurance. The track "Honey-Drops" takes its emotional arc directly from this: restless searching resolved into joy.
Full text
Of God's great mercy now I'll sing,
I will his mercy praise,
For to extol Jehovah King,
a quiv'ring voice I'll raise
I'll be thy God thou say'st O Lord,
this promis'd is to me;
What highest heaven can afford
I will vouchsafe on thee.
For this poor earth, thou needs not care,
thou shalt inherit all;
With Christ my Son thou shalt be heir,
in glore celestial.
O pause my soul, and be amaz'd,
at this transcendent grace;
And for thy vileness be abas'd,
be sure to make thy peace.
Oh what am I but sinful dust,
and shall I have such store
Of riches, that shall never rust
in that eternal glore?
Is't not enough, I'm not in hell,
tormented in that fire?
For oft I did thy voice repel,
provoking thee to ire.
And shall not only thou relieve
me from the infernal lake?
But also promises to give
good things for mercie's sake.
And shall I have not only crumbs,
which from thy table fall:
But more than all the richest sums
of gold and silver all.
And shall it not suffice to give
what creatures can afford?
But thou wilt have me for to live,
ev'n with thyself, O Lord!
Shall God then be my portion?
his wisdom to direct?
His goodness for compassion,
his power to protect,
His holiness to sanctify,
his all sufficient store,
Me to provide with rich supply,
blest be my God therefore.
Shall his high habitation,
ev'n be my dwelling place?
And shall his creatures ev'ry one
make way for my solace?
Shall his brave angels me surround,
and guard me from all ill?
O this great mercy hath no bound!
sing praises then I will.
O then, my soul, let all my strength
and faculties each one,
Be consecrate to God at length,
for his salvation.
Thy time and talent then bestow,
his name to glorify;
Who did to thee such mercy show
praise him most cheerfully.
But as his mercies great and free,
so doth it still endure,
Most firm and sure t'eternity,
none shall their souls enjure.
A woman may forgetful be
of infants of her born;
But tho' she would, yet would not God
me leave to be forlorn.
The mountains may removed be,
the day and night may change,
The hills cast into the sea,
tho' heav'n and earth do range.
Yet sure he will most tenderly,
his precious saints embrace;
In spite of hell, they shall prevail,
and see his glorious face.
I grav'n am on his palms, therefore
I'll not forgotten be;
Tho' I were ev'n at death's dark vale,
it shall not terrify.
His wrath may for a moment last,
to chasten me for sin;
Yea, everlasting kindness, I,
and favour hope to find.
Then I'll begin to banish sin,
contemning worldly toys;
With wings I'll fly and soar on high,
seeking for heav'nly joys.