The Marriage of Denise Karen Zaremba to Simon George Taylor
at St Nicholas Church, Ashchurch, Tewkesbury
on Saturday 26th July 1997
Processional Music: Trumpet Tune – Charpentier (1634-1749)
Introduction and Welcome
And did those feet in ancient time
walk upon England’s mountains green?
And was the holy Lamb of God
on England’s pleasant pastures seen?
And did the countenance divine
shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
among those dark satanic mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
till we have built Jerusalem
in England’s green and pleasant land.
Reading: 1 Corinthians 13
I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love:
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the altar, the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.
And there’s another country, I’ve heard of long ago,
Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
And her ways are way of gentleness and all her paths are peace.
Reading: Ecclesiastes 4: 9-12
(After all have said together The Lord’s Prayer)
Priest: O Lord, save thy servant and thy hand-maid;
People: Who put their trust in thee.
Priest: O Lord, send them help from thy holy place;
People: And evermore defend them.
Priest: Be unto them a tower of strength;
People: From the face of their enemy.
Priest: O Lord, hear our prayer;
People: And let our cry come unto thee.
Mine eyes have seen the glory
of the coming of the Lord.
He is tramping out the vintage
where the grapes of wrath are stored.
He has loosed the fateful lightning
of his terrible swift sword.
His truth is marching on.
Glory, glory hallelujah! Glory, glory hallelujah!
Glory, glory hallelujah! His truth is marching on.
I have seen him in the watchfires
of a hundred circling camps.
They have gilded him an altar
in the evening dews and damps.
I can read his righteous sentence
by the dim and flaring lamps.
His day is marching on.
He has sounded forth the trumpet
that shall never sound retreat.
He is sifting out all human hearts
before his judgement seat.
O, be swift my soul to answer him,
be jubilant my feet!
Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies
Christ was born across the sea,
with a glory in his bosom
that transfigures you and me.
As he died to make us holy,
let us live that all be free,
whilst God is marching on.
During the signing of the register:
Voluntary 3 John Lugge (1587 – 1647)
Toccata from 5th Symphony – Widor