For Martin

I wrote this some time ago, but I’ve been shy about sharing it. Let me tell you the backstory.

From the days when I was a soprano I’ve been a choirboy, so I’ve sung a lot of hymns, and I like hymns. Some better than others, of course. I really like the old foursquare 8.6.8.6 Common Metre standbys — Isaac Watts, William Cowper. God moves in a mysterious way. O God our help in ages past.

Watts in particular is seriously underrated.

Now my dear old somewhat shabby Mother Church has a hymn for Martin Luther King in its official Hymnal, but the hymn in question is simply terrible. I mean, embarrassing. I won’t go into detail, but trust me.

So I thought I’d try my hand, since I admire Martin and think he deserves better. And do it in a time-honored form, the old Common Metre.

I quickly found that writing something that actually might be sung is not so easy, and to pack any discursive sense into Common Metre is pretty hard too. Which left me admiring Watts and Cowper even more than I already did.

Anyway, though there’s no particular occasion just now, here’s my effort. If you know any of the old tunes — Old Hundredth, say — hum along.

In every time, in every land
The saints and prophets rise.
Still they appear, the glorious band --
Still truthful, bold, and wise.

You, Martin, rose among us, sent
To set the captive free,
And unremittingly intent
Proclaim the Jubilee;

To kick aside the bar of race,
To end a monstrous war;
And Caesar found he could not face
Such prophecy much more.

So martyr too we sing you now,
Who told the truth so plain
Though Caesar bent his murderous brow;
And may we who remain

Be bold and tell the truth you told,
Like you, to one and all.
The Caesars never love the bold,
But Caesars rise, to fall.

While you with saints and martyrs stand
In sempiternal light,
Where Caesar’s word of cold command
Has lost its transient might.