Ivory Palaces Hymn on Trumpet

posted in: Trumpet Hymns | 0

Ivory Palaces Hymn on Trumpet

Henry Barraclough
Eddie Lewis Trumpet

This week’s Unadorned Trumpet Hymn was a request by my mother. She visited us for two weeks and she mentioned Ivory Palaces when I was recording some other hymns, so I dug it up and decided to do it.

This is a hymn I didn’t know before she mentioned it, so I won’t comment on the lyrics at all. I am still letting them stew for a while before I say anything about that.

Unadorned Trumpet Hymns Series

I don’t know how long I will continue this series. I have been contemplating stopping it because I’ve done over two hundred of these already.

Remember that the video series is only an extension of the Unadorned Trumpet Hymn albums. We are ready to release Unadorned Trumpet Hymns III as an album and I don’t see us doing another one of these albums in the future….unless God gives me a message suggesting that the series should continue.

Let me be clear about something, while I’m thinking about it. I live a fairly “Pentecostal” life. I do hear from God and I try to head the things He tells me. So I want to make it clear that this Unadorned Trumpet Hymns series was not something “God told me to do”. All along it was something I WANTED to do.

I hope that makes sense.

I share that information because someone recently asked me why I would quit the series if God told me to do it. But I never said that God told me to record these hymns. The hymns started off as a first fruit offering that I did at the beginning of every recording session.

You can read more about the Unadorned Trumpet Hymns at my other website by clicking HERE.

Ivory Palaces

Ivory Palaces Lyrics

Here is the full text for the hymn:

My Lord has garments so wondrous fine,
And myrrh their texture fills;
Its fragrance reached to this heart of mine
With joy my being thrills.

Out of the ivory palaces,
Into a world of woe,
Only His great eternal love
Made my Savior go.

His life had also its sorrows sore,
For aloes had a part;
And when I think of the cross He bore,
My eyes with teardrops start.

His garments, too, were in cassia dipped,
With healing in a touch;
In paths of sin had my feet e’er slipped—
He’s saved me from its clutch.

In garments glorious He will come,
To open wide the door;
And I shall enter my heav’nly home,
To dwell forevermore.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.