Skip to main content

Full text of "The book of praise : from the best English hymn writers"

See other formats





/^:^&^^'RR'A^ 2 








';^ ^ A -.ArS A A/^K^ /^ ^, 

,;:.y._.v ^ /pi!5nnF^^?N'^ A*: 















A A n ^, u:.>*" 







(TIk l^ooli of llratsc 

LON'UO.N" : K. CLaY, son, and TAYLOR, 1'KlNTfc.RS, 

T^vctityiiintli Thousa)id. 







J'onbon ani) Camlnibcic, 





The present is an attempt, not to add to the 
great and constantly increasing multitude of 
hymn-books intended for congregational use ; 
but to present, under a convenient arrangement, 
a collection of such examples of a copious 
and interesting branch of popular literature, as, 
after a study of the subject which for several 
years has occupied part of his leisure hours, 
have seemed to the Editor most worthy o 
being separated from the mass to which they 

A good hymn should have simphcity, fresh- 
ness, and reality of feeling; a consistent ele- 
vation of tone, and a rhythm easy and harmo- 
nious, but not jingling or trivial. Its language 
may be homely ; but should not be slovenly or 
mean. Affectation or visible artifice is worse 
than excess of homeliness : a hymn is easily 
spoiled by a single falsetto note. Nor will the 

ii Preface. 

most exemplary somidness of doctrine atone 
for doggrel, or redeem from failure a prosaic 
didactic style. 

There are many hymns in the English lan- 
guage, which will bear the test of these rules, 
as well, perhaps, as those of Germany, or of 
the ancient Latin Church. But they are apt 
to be presented in such company, or in such 
a manner, as to detract much from their effect. 
From the operation of causes connected with 
the nature of such compositions, it happens, 
that writers, who do not in general rise above 
mediocrity, sometimes produce beautiful hymns; 
while, on the other hand, there is far more dross 
than gold in the works of all voluminous hymn- 
writers. Nor are the principles, on which 
popular collections of hymns for congregational 
use are formed, favourable to that kind of se- 
lection, which is here attempted. In such 
collections, as a general rule, the taste of the 
compilers is regulated by their theology : they 
seem to be very easily satisfied with all that 
they think orthodox and edifying, or liturgically 
appropriate ; they do not submit hymns, derived 
from sources which they respect, to any free or 
independent criticism ; and, on the other hand, 
they reject, with morbid fastidiousness, every 
sentiment and expression in which they think 

Preface. iii 

they detect the traces of opinions which they 
disHke. It is also their frequent habit to cut 
down the compositions which they approve, 
with little discrimination or judgment, to such 
arbitrary dimensions, as suit their ideas of the 
time which ought to be occupied, during Divine 
service, by congregational singing. 

The same regard to motives of (real, or 
supposed,) convenience and edification has in- 
troduced a system of tampering with the text 
of hymns, which has now grown into so great 
an abuse, that to meet with any author's genuine 
text, in a book of this kind, is quite the exception. 
Censurable as this practice is, in a literary point 
of view, it must be confessed that those who 
adopt it may plead, in their excuse, the examples 
of many of the writers, whose compositions they 
alter. The Wesleys altered the compositions of 
George Herbert, Sandys, Austin, and Watts. 
Toplady, Madan, and others, altered some of 
Charles Wesley's hymns, much to his brother 
John's discontent, as he testifies in the preface 
to his Hynin-Book for Methodists. Toplady's 
own hymns, even the " Rock of Ages," have 
not escaped similar treatment. James Mont- 
gomery complains much, in the preface to the 
edition of his collected hymns published in 
1853, of his share in this peculiar cross of 
b 2 

iv Preface. 

hymn-writers, as he calls it. But he had him- 
self, about tliirty years before, altered the works 
of other men, in his Christiaii Psalmist. Bishop 
Heber, scholar as he was, and editor of Jeremy 
Taylor's works, silently altered Taylor's Advent 
Hymn in his own hymn-book ; and the hymns 
of Heber himself, and of writers still living, 
such as Keble, Milman, Alford, and Neale, are 
met with eveiy day in a variety of forms, which 
their authors would hardly recognize. Perhaps, 
vrhen the masters of the art have taken such 
liberties, it may be explained on the same 
principle as that on which musicians, and par- 
ticularly the composers of anthems, produce 
variations from, and improvements upon, the 
works of their predecessors : and, indeed, some 
such variations of hymns are sufficiently good 
to take rank as new compositions ; better than 
those by which they v>^ere suggested. But this 
is a rare felicity; and the result is vridely dif- 
ferent, when the work of alteration is under- 
taken by incompetent hands. 

In the present volume, while the Editor has 
not thought it necessary to give the whole of 
every composition, from which a selection of 
parts might, in his judgment, more advan- 
tageously be made, it has been his desire and 
aim to adhere strictly, in all cases in which it 

P7'eface. v 

could be ascertained, to the genuine uncorrupted 
text of the authors themselves. Great pains 
have been taken to trace out and ascertain the 
true authorship of such hymns, as were either 
without names of authors, or attributed to 
authors by whom they were not really written^ 
in the books from which the Editor in the first 
instance took them. This was a task, which he 
could himself scarcely have undertaken, and in 
which he certainly could not have hoped to 
succeed, but for the assistance of Mr. Sedgwick, 
of No. 8 1, Sun Street, Bishopsgate ; who has 
bestowed much time and attention on this 
branch of literature, and has attained to a 
knowledge of it, probably not possessed h^' 
any other Englishman. By his valuable help, 
the authorship of all but twelve o/ the com- 
positions here collected has been traced, and 
the text collated with the original works of 
the authors. Thus aided, the Editor has been 
enabled, before finally completing his selection, 
to go through all, or almost all, the original 
publications containing hymns or sacred poetry 
of (amongst others), George Herbert, Sandys, 
Wither, Quarles, Crashaw, John Austin, Ba-xter;, 
Bishop Taylor, Bishop Patrick, Bishop Ken, 
John Mason, Thomas Shepherd, Samuel Cross- 
man, and Lancelot Addison (of the seventeenth 
century); Joseph Addison, Watts, Simon Browne, 

vi Pi'eface. 

Ralph Erskine, Doddridge, Hammond, John 
and Charles Wesley, Cennick, Seagrave, Grigg, 
Be«ridge, Olivers, William Williams, Toplady, 
Cowper, John Newton, Anne Steele, Hart, 
Gibbons, Michael Bruce, Logan, Byrom, Skelton, 
Swain, Daniel Turner, Ryland, Stennett, ^eed- 
ham, Beddome, Medley, Henry Moore, and 
Mrs. Barbauld (of the eighteenth century) ; 
Gisborne, Kirke White, Anne Flowerdew, 
Drennan, Bowdler, Kelly, James Montgomery, 
Sir Robert Grant, Bishop Heber, Bishop Mant, 
Bathurst, Lyte, Edmeston, Bernard Barton, 
Grinfield, and Chandler (of the present cen- 
tury); besides other writers, still living, whom 
it is unnecessary to name ; and many mis- 
cellaneous collections, old and modern. Of 
the names thus enumerated, several are not 
represented at all in this collection ; as the 
Editor did not find anything in their works 
which appeared to him to be suitable for his 
purpose, and equal to the general standard of 
merit, which he desired to maintain. But of 
the great majority, as well as of some other 
writers whose works are not accessible in a 
collected form, specimens more or less numerous 
will be found. A few examples of successful 
variations or centoes (in all instances but tv>^o, 
by known authors) from earlier compositions, 
have also been included ; together with three 

Preface. vii 

original hymns, out of several which have been 
communicated to the Editor, by the kindness 
of the authors, in manuscript. Upon the works 
of living authors generally, the Editor has not 
thought it expedient to draw with the same 
freedom, as upon those of earlier generations ; 
although he has not deemed it necessary to 
forego altogether the advantage of including in 
his book specimens of those works, especially 
of such of them as have obtained general 
currency in popular hymn-books. 

The arrangement which has been adopted in 
this volume (and upon which some care has been 
bestowed), may be explained in a few words. 
The Catholic Creeds, and the Lord's Prayer, 
presenting in their simplest forms, and in their 
natural order, all the fundamental points of 
Christianity, both objective and subjective, 
appeared to the Editor to be the best basis for 
a classification of those hymns of faith and 
devotion, which express feelings at all times 
appropriate to a Christian profession. These 
two groups of hymns constitute Parts I. and II. 
of the Collection. The Third Part consists of 
hymns distinguished chiefly from those of the 
two former classes, by having a special refer- 
ence to particular times and occasions. In the 
Fourth Part will be found distributed, under 

viii Preface. 

suitable heads, compositions of a kind inter- 
mediate between hymns for general use and 
private meditations ; which (although the dis- 
tinction is better marked in some cases than 
in others) seem to breathe, upon the whole, the 
accents of particular, rather than general, con- 
sciousness and experience. On this account, they 
are, for the most part, out of place in ordinary 
hymn-books, and unfit to be sung by public 
congregations ; but their tone is not the less 
spiritual and real ; and those who know any- 
thing of their own wants, and of the power of 
religion, can scarcely fail to be impressed with 
their beauty and truth. 

The Editor is not sure, whether it may not 
appear to some to be an objection to this 
classification, that, by bringing closely to- 
gether a number of hymns on one subject, a 
sense of repetition and monotony is created, 
which might have been avoided by a different 
method. The repetition, however, which will 
undoubtedly be met with in the works, not only 
of different, but even of the same hymn-writers, 
is of a kind appropriate to such compositions ; 
and, therefore, it ought not to be withdrawn 
from observation. All lovers of Art are familiar 
with the habitual repetition of Holy Families, 
and other sacred subjects, by the early painters, 

Preface. ix 

down to and including RafFaelle. The constant 
enthusiastic contemplation of a few subjects, 
dear to the universal heart of Christendom, and 
embodying the highest conceptions of Divme 
purity and beauty, produced a simplicity, refine- 
ment, and spirituality of style, which never tires, 
notwithstanding its limited range. These are 
the hymns of painters, addressed to the sense of 
sight. A similar law has always governed, and 
to this day governs Christian Hymnody; bind- 
ing together by the force of a central attraction, 
more powerful than all causes of difterence, 
times ancient and modern, nations of various 
race and language. Churchmen and Noncon- 
formists, Churches reformed and unreformed. 
It is refreshing to turn aside from the divisions 
of the Christian world, and to rest for a little 
time in the sense of tliat inward unity, which, 
after all, subsists among all good Christians, and 
which (is it too much to hope^) may perhaps 
receive some illustration, even from a volume 
like this. 

Throughout the volume, the names of the 
authors, when known, are aftixed to their hymns. 
When more authors than one have been con- 
cerned in the composition of a hymn, or when 
it is a cento or variation by one person from 
the work of another, the names of all the 

X Preface, 

writers concerned (so far as known) are given. 
The dates added to the names signify, when 
without brackets, the time at which each hymn 
is beheved to have been first composed or 
published : when within brackets, the date of 
the edition or copy, from which the text of a 
hymn (known or believed to have been published 
at an earlier date, not correctly ascertained) has 
been taken by the Editor. The text has been 
verified by collation with the original work of 
the author, or an authentic copy, in every case, 
except those specified in the notes at the end 
of the volume. The notes also show in what 
cases the text consists of any selected parts or 
part, less than the whole, of an original work. 
When a double date is appended to a single 
name, it signifies that the work, published at 
the earlier date, was afterwards altered by the 
author himself, the text of the later date being 
that adopted. 

The Editor cannot conclude without returning 
his thanks to many friends, and to some not 
personally known to him, for the kind assistance, 
and offers of assistance, which he has received 
from them, while this work was in progress. 
His obligations to some of them will be found 
specially acknowledged in the notes. He has 
also to thank the owners of copyrights in many 

Preface, xi 

of the more modern hymns, which are included 
in the vohmie, for the consent which they have, 
in all cases wJien applied to, kindly given to 
the use of their works. And if, in any instances, 
he has, either through ignorance of the existence 
of a copyright, or for want of means of com- 
munication, made use of any work, in respect 
of which a similar permission ought to have 
been obtained, without actually obtaining it, 
he ventures to hope that the oversight may be 
excused, and the same liberality extended to 
him, as if a request for permission had been 
previously made. 

In the present edition thirty-four Hymns are 
added, which did not appear in the " Book of 
Praise," as originally published. Some of these 
came to the Editor's knowledge too late to be 
included, and some were undesignedly omitted, in 
the first edition. Others, which were then inten- 
tionally omitted, are now added, in deference to the 
judgment of critics and friends, whose estimate of 
their merit is higher than the Editor's own. 

The absence, in this volume, of any selection from 
the Old or New Version of the Psalms, having been 
the subject of some remark, the Editor wishes to 
observe, that such a selection would have been 
foreign to his design. The "Psalms" (so called) 
of Watts, Lytc, Montgomery, and others, and the 

xii Prcjace. 

Scotch " Paraphrases," which are included in the 
" Book of Praise," are compositions, into which, 
although founded (as many of the best Hymns in 
all languages are) upon particular passages of 
Scripture, other elements, for the most part, largely 
enter. But the i\uthorized Versions of the Psalms 
profess to be, in the strict sense of the words, 
metrical renderings of Holy Scripture. As such, 
whatever degree of merit they may possess, they 
differ in kind from ordinary Hymns : and, being 
universally known, and accessible in every Prayer- 
Book, it did not seem to the Editor either necessary 
or appropriate to associate any of them, in this 
place, with com.positions of a different class. 

With respect to the translations from Latin and 
German hymns, which are included in this collec- 
tion, it also seems proper to explain, that the 
choice has not been made with any reference to 
the merits of the Latin or German originals ; but 
solely because the labours of the translator had, 
in each of these cases, resulted in the production 
(according to the Editor's judgment) of a good 
English hymn. From the unavoidable difficulties 
of translation, this does not very often happen ; 
and the excellence or popularity of the original, in 
in its own language, seems to be no reason for in- 
cluding, in a collection of this kind, an unsuccessful 
attempt to reproduce it, or even an attempt which, 
if partially successful, may, nevertheless be wanting 
in the simplicity, freedom, and ease, of a genuine 
English composition. 




I. The Holj^ Trinity . . 
II. Godthe Creator . . 

III. Christ Incarnate . . 

IV. Christ Crucified . . 
V. Clirist Risen . . . 

Christ Ascended . . 
Christ's Kingdom and 


God the Holv Ghost . . 
IX. The Holy Catholic Church 
X. The Communion of Saints 
XI. The Forgiveness of Sins 
XII. Resurrection and Eternal Li 







to VII. 



to XXIX. . 


to XLVII. . 



to LVII. 



to LXIV. 



to 1.XXIII . 



to XCII, 



to CVII. 



to CXXIX. . 



to CXLI. 










'* Lord, teach us to pray" . . 

I. " Our Father, which art m\ 

heaven, hallowed be Thy[ 

Name" j 

II. " Thy kingdom come" . . . 

III. " Tliy will 1)6 done in earth,'> 

as it is in heaven " ... J 

IV. " Give us this day our daily! 

bread" J 

V. " And forgive us our tres-'j 

passes, as we forgive themV 

that trespass against us" .J 

VI. " And lead us not into temx>ta-'j 

tion: but deliver us from!- 

evil" j 

Vri. '* For Thine is the kingdom,") 
the power, and the glory, > 
for ever and ever. Amen ") 



. 180 

. 186 


to CLXXX. . 

. 191 


to CCIV. . 

. 198 




ccxix. to CCXXVI. 









I. Day and Night ccxlvi. to cclxvi. , 

II. Seed Time and Harvest . . . cclxvii. to cclxxiv 

III. The Old and New Year . . . cclxxv. to cclxxx. 

IV. Baptism and Childhood . . . cclxxxi. to ccxci. , 
V. Holy Communion ccxcii. to ccxcviii 

VI. Holy Matrimony . . . . . ccxcix 

VII. Tlie Burial of the Dead . . . ccc. to cccvi. , 

VIII. Churcli Dedication .... cccv'ii. to cccix. 
IX. The Lord's Day , .... cccx. to cccxxi. 




I. The Call.— "Rise; He calleth) , 

thee." (Mark x. 49). . .} cccxxii. to cccxxxtv. . 341 
II. The Answer.— " I will arise,) 

and go to my Father."- cccxxxv. to cccxliv. . 355 

(Luke XV. 18) ) 

III. Faith. -" Looking unto Jesus, ") 

the Author and Finisher ofV cccxLV. to cccli. . . 365 

our Faith." (Heb. xii. 2; .) 
IV. Love. — " If ye love Me, keep) 

my commandments." (John > ccclii. to ccclx. . . 375 

xiv. 15) ) 

V. Hope.— "Set your affections on) 

things above; not on things [ cccLXi. to ccclxxvi. . 387 

on the earth." (Col. iii. 2) .J 
VI. Joy.—" In whom, though now^ 

ye see Him not, yet believ- | 

iug, ye rejoice with joy )■ c(;clxxvii. to ccclxxxvi. 404 

unspeakable, and full of I 

glory." (1 Pet. i. 8) . . .) 
VII. Discipline.— "Whom the Lord) 

loveth, He chasteneth."loccLxxxvii. to cccxcix. . 414 

(Heb xii. 6) ) 

VIII. Patience.— "Be patient, there-) 

fore, brethren, unto the I , .„ . 

coming of the Lord." ^'"'^'- *« ccccxii. . 426 

(James v. 7j / 


NOTES 487 





^ fi00ll xrf "^xmt 



TAe Catholic Faith is this .- that ive worship one God in 
Trinity, and Trinity in Unity." 

Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Almighty ! 

Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee ; 
Holy, holy, holy ! Merciful and Mighty ! 

God in Three Persons, blessed Trinity ! 

Holy, holy, holy ! all the saints adore Thee, 

Casting down their golden crowns around the 
glassy sea, 

Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee, 
Which wert, and art, and evermore shalt be. 

Holy, holy, holy ! though the darkness hide Thee, 
Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may 
not see. 

Only Thou art holy, there is none beside Thee, 
Perfect in power, in love and purity. 

Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Almighty ! 
All Thy works shall praise Thy Name in earth 
and sky and sea ; 
Holy, holy, holy ! Merciful and Mighty ! 
God in Three Persons, blessed Trinity ! 

' Bisliop Reginald Heber. 1827. 

The Book of Praise, 

Round the Lord in glory seated 

Cherubim and seraphim 
Fill'd His temple, and repeated 

Each to each th' alternate hymn. 

" Lord, Thy glory fills the heaven, 
" Earth is with its fulness stor'd ; 

" Unto Thee be glory given, 
" Holy, holy, holy Lord!" 

Heaven is still with glory ringing, 

Earth takes up the angels' cry, 
" Holy, holy, holy," singing, 

" Lord of hosts, the Lord most High !" 

With His seraph train before Him, 

With His holy Church below, 
Thus conspire we to adore Him, 

Bid we thus our anthem flow : 

'• Lord, Thy glory fills the heaven, 
" Earth is with its fulness stor'd ; 

" Unto Thee be glory given, 
"Holy, holy, holy Lord!" 

Bishop Richard Mant 1 8 \i 


Holy, holy, holy, Lordj 

God of hosts ! When heaven and earth 
Out of darkness, at Thy word. 

Issued into glorious birth, 
All Thy works before Thee stood, 
And Thine eye beheld them good, 
While they sang, with one accord, 
Hoi)-, holy, holy, Lord ! 

The Holy Trinity. 3 

Holy, holy, holy ! Thee, 

One Jehovah evermore, 
Father, Son, and Spirit, we, 

Dust and ashes, would adore : 
Lightly by the world esteemed, 
From that world by Thee redeemed, 
Sing we here, with glad accord, 
Holy, holy, holy Lord ! 

Holy, holy, holy ! All 

Heaven's triumphant choir shall sing, 
When the ransomed nations fall 

At the footstool of their King : 
Then shall saints and seraphim, 
Hearts and voices, swell one hymn, 
Round the Throne w^ith full accord, 
Lloly, holy, holy, Lord ! 

James Mon tgom cry, 1853, 


Te Dewn Lmidanuis. 

God eternal. Lord of all, 

Lowly at Thy feet we fall. 

All the earth doth worship Thee ; 

We amidst the throng would be. , 

All the holy angels cry, 
Hail, thrice holy, God most High 
Lord of all flie heavenly powers, 
Be the same loud anthem ours. 

Glorified apostles raise 
Night and day continual praise t 
Hast Thou not a mission too 
For Thy children here to do ' 

B 2 

The Book of Praise. 

With Thy prophets' goodly line 
We in mystic bond combine ; 
For Thou hast to babes revealed 
Things that to the wise were sealed. 

Martyrs, in a noble host, 
Of Thy cross are heard to boast ; 
Since so bright the crown they wear. 
Early we Thy cross would bear. 

All Thy Church in heaven and earth, 
Jesus ! hail Thy spotless birth ; 
Own the God, who all has made ; 
And the Spirit's soothing aid. 

Offspring of a Virgin's womb ; 
Slain, and Victor o'er the tomb ; 
Seated on the Judgment-throne, 
Number us among Thine own ! 

Day by day we magnify Thee, 
And would eveiTnore be nigh Thee : 
Keep us from the Tempter's snare ; 
Spare Thy people, Jesu, spare ! 

James Elwin Millard. 1848. 

Te Deiim Lauda^ntcs. 

Thee w-e adore, eternal L^rd ! 
We praise Thy Name with one accord ; 
Thy saints, who here Thy goodness see, 
Through all the world do worship Thee. 

To Thee aloud all angels cry, 

And ceaseless raise their songs on high, 

The Holy Trinity. 5 

Both cherubin and seraphin, 

The heavens and all the powers therein. 

The Apostles join the glorious throng ; 
The Prophets swell the immortal song ; 
The Martyrs' noble army raise 
Eternal anthems to Thy praise. 

Thee, Holy, holy, holy King ! 
Thee, the Lord God of hosts, they sing : 
Thus earth below, and heaven above, 
Resound Thy glory and Thy love. 

Thomas Cotterill. [18 10.] 


I give immortal praise 

To God the Father's love, 
For all my comforts here 
And better hopes above ; 
He sent His own eternal Son 
To die for sins that man had done. 

To God the Son belongs 

Immortal glory too, 
Who bought us with His blood 
From everlasting woe ; 
And now He lives, and now He reigns, 
And sees the fruit of all His pains. 

To God the Spirit's name 
Immortal worship give. 
Whose new-creating power 
Makes the dead sinner live ; 
His work completes the great design. 
And fills the soul with joy divine. 

The Book of Praise. 

Almighty God, to Thee 

Be endless honours done ; 
The undivided Three, 
And the mysterious One ! 
Where reason fails with all her powers, 
There faith prevails, and love adores. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 


O King of kings, before whose throne 

The angels bow, no gift can we 
Present that is indeed our own, 

Since heaven and earth belong to Thee : 
Yet this our souls through grace impart, 
The offering of a thankful heart. 

O Jesu, set at God's right hand, 

With Thine eternal Father plead 
For all Thy loyal-hearted band, 

Who still on earth Thy succour need ; 
For them in weakness strength provide, 
And through the world their footsteps guide, 

O Holy Spirit, Fount of breath, 

Whose comforts never fail nor fade, 
Vouchsafe the life that knows no death, 

Vouchsafe the light that knows no shade ; 
And grant, that we through all our days 
May share Thy gifts, and sing Thy praise. 

Variation by Thomas Darli7ig. 1 85 7. 
From John Quarles. 1654. 

God the Creator. 7 



''/ believe iii one God, (lie Father Ahnighty, Maker of 
heaven and earth, and of all things visible and 
invisible. " 


Psalm C. 

Before Jehovah's awful throne, 
Ye nations, bow with sacred joy ; 

Know that the Lord is God alone, 
He can create, and He destroy. 

His sov'reign power, without our aid, 
Made us of clay, and formed us men ; 

And when like wandering sheep we stray' d, 
He brought us to His fold again. 

We'll crowd Thy gates with thankful songs, 
High as the heavens our voices raise ; 

And earth, with her ten thousand tongues, 
Shall fill Thy courts with sounding praise. 

Wide as the world is Thy command, 

Vast as eternity Thy love ; 
Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand. 
When rolling years shall cease to move. 
Isaac Watts. 1719. 
Varied by Charles Wesley. 1741. 

The Book of Praise. 


Psalm XCIII. 

The Lord Jehovah reigns 

And royal state maintains, 
His head with awful glories crown'd ; 

Arrayed in robes of light, 

Begirt with sovereign might, 
And rays of majesty around. 

Upheld by Thy commands, 

The world securely stands, 
And skies and stars obey Thy word : 

Thy throne was fixed' on high 

Before the starry sky : 
Eternal is Thy kingdom. Lord. 

In vain the noisy crowd, 

Like billows fierce and loud, 
Against Thine empire rage and roar : 

In, vain, with angry spite. 

The surly nations fight, 
And dash like waves against the shore. 

Let floods and nations rage. 

And all their powers engage ; 
Let swelling tides assault the sky : 

The terrors of Thy frown 

Shall beat their madness down : 
Thy throne for ever stands on high. 

Thy promises are true, 

Thy grace is ever new ; 
There fixed, Thy Church shall ne'er remove : 

Thy saints with holy fear 

Shall in Thy courts appear. 
And sing Thine everlasting love. 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 

God the C7-eator. 


Let all the world rejoice, 

The great Jehovah reigns ; 
The thunders are His awful voice ; 

Our life His will ordains ; 

The glories of His Name 
The lightnings, floods, and hail proclaim. 

He rules by sea and land, 

O'er boundless realms He sways ; 
He holds the oceans in His hand. 

And mighty mountains weighs : 

Unequalled and alone 
In majesty He fills His throne. 

The universe He made 

By His prevailing might ; 
The earth's foundations He hath laid, 

And scattered ancient night ; 

When heaven, and earth, and sea^ 
Proclaimed His awful majesty. 

When the bright orb of day 

First gleamed with ruddy light. 
And yonder moon, with silver ray, 

Marched up the vault of night ; 

And stars bedecked the skies, 
That seemed creation's thousand eyes ; 

And earth's fair form was seen. 
With flowers and blossoms drest ; 

And trees, and fields, and meadows green, 
Adorned her youthful breast. 
Hung out in boundless space, 

Amid the ocean's cool embrace ; 

lo TJie Book of Praise. 

Glad was the angel throng 

To see His might prevail ; 
And loud they sung a joyful song 

This universe to hail, 

While yet in youth it stood ; 
The Maker, too, pronounced it good. 

But this fair world shall die, 

The creature of a day ; 
In ashes and in ruins lie, 

Its glory passed away: 

As when before her birth, 
Again shall be this mighty earth. 

Soon shall the day be o'er 

Of yonder brilliant sun ; 
And he shall set to rise no more, 

His race of glory run ; 

And soon, alas ! all soon 
Shall fade the stars, and yon pale moon. 

But ever fix'd, the throne 

Of the Eternal One 
Shall stand, when all creation's gone, 

Unequalled and alone ; 

New worlds to make at will, 
And His own wise designs fulfil. 

John Hunt. 1853. 


Psalm CXV. 

Not unto us, Almighty Lord, 

But to Thyself the glory be \ 
Created by Thy awful word, 

We only live to honour Thee. 

God the Creator. 1 1 

Where is their God ? the heathen cry, 
And bow to senseless wood and stone ; 

Our God, we tell them, fills the sky, 
And calls ten thousand worlds his own. 

Vain gods ! vain men ! the Lord alone 
Is Israel's worship, Israel's friend ; 

O fear His power, His goodness own. 
And love Him, trust Him, to the end. 

Who lean on Him, from strength to strength. 
From light to light, shall onward move, 

Till through the grave they pass at length, 
To sing on high His saving love. 

Henry Francis Lytc. 1834. 


Psalm CXLVI. 

Happy the man, whose hopes rely 
On Israel's God ; He made the sky, 

And earth and seas Avith all their train ; 
His truth for ever stands secure, 
He saves the opprest, He feeds the poor ; 

And none shall find his promise vain. 

The Lord hath eyes to give the blind ; 
The Lord supports the sinking mind ; 

He sends the labouring conscience peace ; 
He helps the stranger in distress, 
The widow and the fatherless, 

And grants the prisoner sweet release. 

ril praise Him while He lends me breath, 
And when my voice is lost in death 

12 The Book of Praise. 

Praise shall employ my nobler powers : 
My days of praise shall ne'er be past, 
While life and thought and being last, 

Or immortality endures. 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 


Psalm XIX. 

The spacious firmament on high, 

With all the blue ethereal sky. 

And spangled heavens, a shining frame, 

Their great Original proclaim. 

The unwearied sun, from day to day, 

Does his Creator's power display, 

And publishes to every land 

The work of an Almighty hand. 

Soon as the evening shades prevail, 
The moon takes up the wondrous tale, 
And nightly to the listening earth 
Repeats the story of her birth ; 
Whilst all the stars that round her bum, 
And all the planets in their turn, 
Confirm the tidings, as they roll, 
And spread the truth from pole to pole. 

Move round the dark terrestrial ball ; 
What, though no real voice or sound 
Amidst their radiant orbs be found ; 
In reason's ear they all rejoice. 
And utter forth a glorious voice, 
For ever singing, as they shine, 
" The hand that made us is Divine." 

Joseph Addison. 1728. 

God the O'eator. 13 


There is a book, who runs may read, 

Which heavenly truth imparts. 
And all the lore its scholars need, 

Pure eyes and Christian hearts. 

The works of God, above, below, 

Within us and around. 
Are pages in that book, to show 

How God Himself is found. 

The glorious sky, embracing all, 

Is like the Maker's love, 
Wherewith encompass'd, great and small 

In peace and order move. 

The moon above, the Church below, 

A wondrous race they run ; 
But all their radiance, all their glow. 

Each borrows of its sun. 

The Saviour lends the light and heat 

That crowns His holy hill ; 
The saints, like stars, around His seat 

Perform their courses still. 

The saints above are' stars in Heaven ; 

What are the saints on earth i 
Like trees they stand, whom God has given, 

Our Eden's happy birth. 

Faith is their fix'd unswerving root, 

Hope their unfading flower ; 
Fair deeds of charity their fruit, 

The glory of their bower. 

14 The Boo'c of Praise. 

The dew of heaven is hke Thy grace ; 

It steals in silence down ; 
But, where it lights, the favoured place 

By richest fruits is known. 

One name, above all glorious names, 

With its ten thousand tongues 
The everlasting sea proclaims, 

Echoing angelic songs. 

The raging fire, the roaring wind, 

Thy boundless power display : 
But in the gentler breeze we find 

Thy Spirit's viewless way. 

Two worlds are ours : 'tis only sin 

Forbids us to descry, 
The mystic heaven and earth within, 

Plain as the sea and sky. 

Thou who hast given me eyes to see 

And love this sight so fair, 
Give me a heart to find out Thee, 

And read Thee everywhere. 

John Keble. 1827. 


Psalm LXV. 

On God the race of man depends, 
Far as the earth's remotest ends. 
Where the Creator's name is known 
By nature's feeble light alone. 

He bids the noisy- tempests cease ; 
He calms the raging crowd to peace. 

God the O-eator. 15 

When a tumultuous nation raves 
Wild as the winds, and loud as waves. 

Whole kingdoms, shaken by the storm. 
He settles in a peaceful form ; 
Mountains, establish'd by His hand, 
Firm on their old foundations stand. 

Behold His ensigns sweep the sky ; 
New comets blaze, and lightnings fly ! 
The heathen lands, with swift surprise. 
From the bright horrors turn their eyes. 

At His command the morning ray 
Smiles in the east, and leads the day ; 
He guides the sun's declining wheels 
Over the tops of western hills. 

Seasons and times obey His voice ; 
The evening and the morn rejoice 
To see the earth made soft with showers, 
Laden with fruit, and drest in flowers 

'Tis from His watery stores on high 
He gives the thirsty ground supply ; 
He walks upon the clouds, and thence 
Doth His enriching drops dispense. 

The desert grows a fruitful field. 
Abundant food the valleys yield ; 
The valleys shout with cheerful voice, 
And neighbouring hills repeat their joys. 

Thy works pronounce Thy power divine ; 
O'er every field Thy glories shine ; 
Through every month thy gifts appear ; 
Great God ! Thy goodness crowns the year ! 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 

1 6 The Book of Praise. 


Thy goodness, Lord, our souls confess, 

Thy goodness we adore ; 
A spring, whose blessings never fail, 

A sea without a shore. 

Sun, moon, and stars, Thy love attest 

In every cheerful ray ; 
Love draws the curtains of the night. 

And love restores the day. 

Thy bounty every season crowns 

With all the bliss it yields. 
With joyful clusters bend the vines, 

With harvests wave the fields. 

But chiefly Thy compassions, Lord, 

Are in the Gospel seen ; 
There, like the Sun, Thy mercy shines 

Without a cloud between. 

Thomas Gibbons. 1784. 


I sing th' almighty power of God, 
That made the mountains rise. 

That spread the flowing seas abroad 
And built the lofty skies. 

i sing the wisdom that ordain'd 

The sun to rule the day : 
The moon shines full at His command, 

And all the stars obey. 

God the Creator. 17 

I sing the goodness of the Lord 

That filled the earth with food \ 
He formed the creatures with His word,. 

And then pronounced them good. 

Lord, how Thy wonders are display'd, 

Where'er I turn my eye ; 
If I survey the ground I tread, 

Or gaze upon the sky ! 

There's not a plant or flower below, 

But makes Thy glories known ; 
And clouds arise, and tempests blow, 

By order from Thy throne. 

Creatures, as numerous as they be, 

Are subject to Thy care ; 
There's not a place where we can flee 

But God is present there. 

In Heaven He shines with beams of love, 

With wrath in hell beneath ; 
'Tis on His earth I stand or move. 

And 'tis His air I breathe. 

His hand is my perpetual guard ; 

He keeps me with His eye : 
Why should I then forget the Lord, 

Who is for ever nigh ? 

Isaac Watts, 1720. 

The Book of Praise. 


Ves, God is good ; in earth and sky, 

From ocean-depths and spreading wood, 

Ten thousand voices seem to zry, 

" God made us all, and God is good." 

The sun that keeps his trackless way. 
And downward pours his golden flood, 

Night's sparkling hosts, all seem to say 
In accents clear, that God is good. 

The merry birds prolong the strain. 
Their song with every spring renewed ; 

And balmy air, and falling rain, 
Each softly whisper, " God is good." 

I hear it in the rushing breeze ; 

The hills that have for ages stood, 
The echoing sky and roaring seas, 

All swell the chorus, " God is good." 

Yes, God is good, all Nature says, 

By God's own hand with speech endued ; 

And man, in louder notes of praise, 
Should sing for joy that God is good. 

For all Thy gifts we bless Thee, Lord ; 

But chiefly for our heavenly food, 
Thy pardoning grace, Thy quick'ning word ; 

These prompt our song, that God is good. 

J oh n Hampdcji Gu7'ncy. 1 83 8 — 1 85 1. 

God the Creator. 19 

Nil laudibus nostris eges. 

Our praise Thou need'st not ; but Thy love, 

Our Father and our Friend, 
Would have our prayers thus soar above, 

In blessings to descend. 

Thy secret judgments' depths profound 

Still sings the silent night ; 
The day upon his golden round 

Thy pity infinite. 

The soul lost in astonishment 

Would speechless wonder fill ; 
But, in the ravish'd bosom pent, 

Love cannot all be still. 

Feeble and faint, she fain would tell 

Of our great Father's love, 
Tempering the ills that with us d^vell, 

And pledging good above. 

Thither would our best thoughts aspire. 

But chains on us abide ; 
O quicken Thou our faint desire. 

And to Thy presence guide ! 

Isaac Williams. 1839. 


Let all the world in every corner sing 
My God and King I 
The heavens are not too high ; 
His praise may thither fly : 
c 3 

20 The Book of Praise. 

The earth is not too low ; 
His praises there may grow. 

Let all the world in every corner sing 
My God and King ! 
The Church with psalms must shout ; 
No door can keep them out : 
But, above all, the heart 
Must bear the longest part. 

Let all the world in every corner sing 
My God and King ! 

Herbert. 1632. 


Psalm CIV. 

O worship the King, 

All glorious above ; 
O gratefully sing 

His power and His love ; 
Our Shield and Defender, 

The Ancient of days, 
PaviHoned in splendour, 

And girded with praise. 

O tell of His might, 

O sing of His grace, 
Whose robe is the light, 

Whose canopy space ; 
His chariots of wrath 

Deep thunder-clouds form, 
And dark is His path 

On the wings of the storm. 

God the Creator. 2 1 

The earth, with its store 

Of wonders untold, 
Almighty, Thy power 

Hath founded of old, 
Hath stablish'd it fast 

By a changeless decree, 
And round it hath cast, 

Thy bountiful care 

What tongue can recite ? 
It breathes in the air. 

It shines in the light ; 
It streams from the hills. 

It descends to the plain. 
And sweetly distils 

In the dew and the rain. 

Frail children of dust. 

And feeble as frail, 
In Thee do v/e trust. 

Nor find Thee to fail : 
Thy mercies how tender ! 

How firm to the end ! 
Our Maker, Defender, 

Redeemer, and Friend ! 

O measureless Might ! 

Ineffable Love ! 
While angels delight 

To hymn Thee above, 
The humbler creation, 

Tho' feeble their lays, 
With true adoration 

Shall lisp to Thy praise. 

Sir Robert Grant. [ 1 839,] 

22 The Book of Praise. 


Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice, 
From realm to realm the notes shall sound \ 

And Heaven's exulting sons rejoice 
To bear the full Hosanna round. 

When, starting from the shades of night, 

At dread Jehovah's high behest, 
The Sun arrayed his limbs in light, 

And Earth her virgin beauty drest; 

Thy praise transported Nature sung 

In pealing chorus loud and far ; 
The echoing vault with rapture rung, 

And shouted every morning star. 

When, bending from His native sky, 
The Lord of Life in mercy came. 

And laid His bright effulgence by, 
To bear on earth a human name ; 

The song, by cherub voices raised, 

Roll'd through the dark blue depths above ; 

And Israel's shepherds heard amazed 
The seraph notes of peace and love. 

And shall not man the concert join. 
For whom this bright creation rose ; 

For whom the fires of morning shine, 
And eve's still lamps, that woo repose ? 

And shall not he the chorus swell. 
Whose form the Incarnate Godhead wore ; 

Whose guilt, whose fears, whose triumph tell 
How deep the w^ounds his Saviour bore ? 

God the Creator, 23 

Long as yon glittering arch shall bend, 

Long as yon orbs in glory roll, 
Long as the streams of life descend 

To cheer with hope the fainting soul, 

Thy praise shall fill each grateful voice, 
Shall bid the song of rapture sound : 

And heaven's exulting sons rejoice 
To bear the full Hosanna round. 

John Bowdler. 1814. 


Psalm CI II. 

Praise, my soul, the King of heaven ; 

To His feet thy tribute bring ; 
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven, 

Who like me His praise should sing } 
Praise Him ! praise Him ! 

Praise the everlasting King ! 

Praise Him for His grace and favour, 

To our fathers in distress ; 
Praise Him, still the same for €ver, 

Slow to chide, and swift to bless ; 
Praise Him ! praise him ! 

Glorious in His faithfulness ! 

Father-like He tends and spares us ; 

Well our feeble frame he knows ; 
In His hands He gently bears us, 

Rescues us from all our foes : 
Praise Him ! praise him ! 

Widely as His mercy flows ! 

24 The Book of Praise. 

Angels, help us to adore Him, 
Ye behold Him face to face ; 
Sun and moon, bow down before Him, 
Dwellers all in time and space. 

Praise Him ! praise Him ! 
Praise with us the God of grace ! 

Henry Francis Lyte. 1834. 


Psalm CL. 

Praise the Lord, His glories show, 
Saints within His courts below, 
Angels round His throne above, 
All that see and share His love. 
Earth to heaven, and heaven to earth, 
Tell his wonders, sing his worth ; 
Age to age, and shore to shore. 
Praise Him, praise Him, evermore ! 

Praise the Lord, His mercies trace ; 
Praise His providence and grace, 
All that He for man hath done, 
All He sends us through His Son : 
Strings and voices, hands and hearts, 
In the concert bear your parts ; 
All that breathe, your Lord adore, 
Praise Him, praise Him, evermore ! 

Henry Francis Lyte. 1 834. 

God the Creator. 25 


, Psalm CXLVIII. 

Praise the Lord of Heaven, praise Him in the 

Praise Him, all ye angels, praise Him, stars an-d 

light ; 
Praise Him, skies, and waters, which above the skies, 
When His word commanded, 'stablished did arise. 

Praise the Lord, ye fountains of the deeps and seas, 
Rocks and hills and mountains, cedars and all trees ; 
Praise Him, clouds and vapours, snow, and hail, and 

Stormy wind, fulfilling only His desire. 

Praise Him, fowls and cattle, princes and all kings. 
Praise Him, men and maidens, all created things ; 
For the Name of God is excellent alone ; 
Over earth His footstool, over heaven His throne. 

T. B. Browne. 1844. 


Hark, my soul, how every thing 
Strives to serve our bounteous King 
Each a double tribute pays. 
Sings its part, and then obeys. 

Nature's chief and sweetest quire 
Him with cheerful notes admire ; 
Chanting every day their lauds. 
While the grove their song applauds. 

26 The Book of Praise. 

Though their voices lower be, 
Streams have too their melody ; 
Night and day they warbling run, 
Never pause, but still sing on. 

All the flowers that gild the spring 
Hither their still music bring ; 
If Heaven bless them, thankful they 
Smell more sweet, and look more gay. 

Only we can scarce afford 
This short office to our Lord ; 
We, on whom His bounty flows, 
All things gives, and nothing owes. 

Wake, for shame, my sluggish heart, 
Wake, and gladly sing thy part ; 
Learn of birds, and springs, and flowers, 
How to use thy nobler pov/ers. 

Call whole nature to thy aid. 
Since 'twas He whole nature made ; 
Join in one eternal song. 
Who to one God all belong. 

Live for ever, glorious Lord ! 
Live, by all Thy works ador'd ! 
One in Three, and Three in One, 
Thrice we bow to Thee alone ! 

- . John Ausiiii. i663. 

God the Creator. 2j 


Come, O come ! in pious lays 
Sound we God Almighty's praise ; 
Hither bring, in one consent, 
Heart, and voice, and instrument : 
Music add of every kind, 
Sound the trump, the cornet wind, 
Strike the viol, touch the lute. 
Let not tongue nor string be mute ; 
Nor a creature dumb be found 
That hath either voice or sound. 

Let those things which do not live 
In still music praises give ; 
Lowly pipe, ye worms that creep 
On the earth or in the deep : 
Loud aloft your voices strain, 
Beasts and monsters of the main ; 
Birds, your warbling treble sing ; 
Clouds, your peals of thunder ring ; 
Sun and moon, exalted higher, 
And bright stars, augment the choir. 

Come, ye sons of human race. 
In this chorus take your place. 
And amid the mortal throng 
Be you masters of the song .' 
Angels and supernal powers, 
Be the noblest tenor yours : 
Let, in praise of God, the sound 
Run a never-ending round, 
That our song of praise may be 
Everlasting, as is He. 

28 The Book of Praise. 

From earth's vast and hollow womb, 
Music's deepest base may come ; 
Seas and floods, from shore to shore, 
Shall their counter-tenors roar : 
To this concert,_when we sing. 
Whistling winds your descants bring ; 
That our song may over-climb 
All the bounds of place and time. 
And ascend, from sphere to sphere, 
To the great Almighty's ear. 

So from Heaven on earth -He shall 
Let His gracious blessings fall ; 
And this huge wide orb we see 
Shall one choir, one temple be ; 
Where in such a praiseful tone 
We will sing what He hath done, 
That the cursed fiends below 
Shall thereat impatient grow : 
Then, O come, in pious lays 
Sound we God Almighty's praise ! 

George Wither. 1641. 


To God, ye choir above, begin 

A hymn so loud and strong. 
That all the universe may hear 

And join the grateful song. 

Praise Him, thou sun. Who dwells unseen 

Amidst transcendent light. 
Where thy refulgent orb would seem 

A spot, as dark as night. 

God the Creator. 29 

Thou silver moon, ye host of stars, 

The universal song 
Through the serene and silent night 

To listening worlds prolong. 

Sing Him, ye distant worlds and suns, 

From whence no travelling ray 
Hath yet to us, through ages past, 

Had time to make its way. 

Assist, ye raging storms, and bear 

On rapid wings His praise, 
From north to south, from east to west. 

Through heaven, and earth, and seas. 

Exert your voice, ye furious fires 

That rend the watery cloud. 
And thunder to this nether world 

Your Maker's w^ords aloud. 

Ye works of God, that dwell unknown 

Beneath the rolling main ; 
Ye birds, that sing among the groves,, 

And sweep the azure plain ; 

Ye stately hills, that rear your heads. 

And towering pierce the sky ; 
Ye clouds, that wath an awful pace 

Majestic roll on high ; 

Ye insects small, to which one leaf 

Within its narrow sides 
A vast extended world displays, 

And spacious realms provides ; 

30 The Book of Pj-aise. 

Ye race, still less than these, with which 

The stagnant water teems, 
To which one drop, however small, 

A boundless ocean seems ; 

Whate'er ye are, where'er ye dwell, 

Ye creatures great or small, 
Adore the wisdom, praise the power, 

That made and governs all. 

And if ye want or sense or sounds, 

To swell the grateful noise, 
Prompt mankind with that sense, and they 

Shall find for you a voice. 

From all the boundless realms of space 

Let loud Hosannas sound ; 
Loud send, ye wondrous works of God, 

The grateful concert round. 

Philip Skelton. 1784. 


The strain upraise of joy and praise, 

To the glory of their King 
Shall the ransomed people sing, 

Alleluia ! 

Alleluia ! 

And the choirs that dwell on high 
Shall re-echo through the sky, 

Alleluia ! 
They through the fields of Paradise who roam. 
The blessed ones, repeat through that bright home. 


God the Creator. 3 1 

The planets glittering on their heavenly way, 
The shining constellations, join and say, 

Alleluia ! 
Ye clouds that onward sweep, 
Ye winds on pinions light, 
Ye thunders, echoing loud and deep, 
Ye lightnings, wildly bright, 
In sweet consent unite your Alleluia ! 
Ye floods and ocean billows, 
Ye storms and winter snow, 
Ye days of cloudless beauty, 
Hoar frost and summer glow ; 
Ye groves that wave in spring, 
And glorious forests, sing 

Alleluia ! 
First let the birds, with painted plumage gay, 
Exalt their great Creator's praise, and say 

Alleluia ! 
Then let the beasts of earth, with var>'ing strain, 
Join in creation's hymn, and cry again, 

Here let the mountains thunder forth sonorous. 

Alleluia ! 
There let the valleys sing in gentler chorus, 

Alleluia ! 
Thou jubilant abyss of ocean, ciy 

Alleluia ! 

Alleluia ! 

Ye tracts of earth and continents, reply 

To God, WTio all creation made. 
The frequent hymn be duly paid ; 

Alleluia ! 
This is the strain, the eternal strain, the Lord 
Almighty loves ; 

Alleluia ! 

32 The Book of Praise, 

This is the song, the heavenly song, that Christ 
Himself approves ; 

Alleluia ! 
Wherefore we sing, both heart and voice awaking, 

And children's voices echo, answer making, 

Nov/ from all men be outpoured 
Alleluia to the Lord ; 
With Alleluia evermore 
The Son and Spirit we adore. 
Praise be done to the Three in One, 
Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! Alleluia ! 

John Mason Neale. 1851. 



'•^ And in one Lord Jestts Christ, the only -begotten Son 
of God, begotten of His Father before all worlds, God 
of God, Light of Light, Very God of Very God, 
Begotten, not made, being of one Substance with the 
Father, by Whoni all things were made : 

''^ Who for us men, and for our salvation, cajne down 
from Heaven, and was Lncarnate by the Holy Ghost 
of the Virgin Mary, and was made man.''' 


" Jam desinant suspiriay 

Away with sorro^\''s sigh, 
Our prayers are heard on high ; 
And through Heaven's crystal door 
On this our earthly floor 
Comes meek-eyed Peace to walk with poor mortality. 

Christ Incarnate. 33 

In dead of night profound, 
There breaks a seraph sound 
Of never-ending morn ; 
The Lord of glory born 
Within a holy grot on this our sullen ground. 

Now with that shepherd crowd 
If it might be allowed, 
We fain would enter there 
With awful hastening fear, 
And kiss that cradle chaste in reverend worship 

O sight of strange surprise 

That fills our gazing eyes : 

A manger coldly strew'd, 
• And swaddling bands so rude, 

A leaning mother poor, and child that helpless lies. 

Art Thou, O wondrous sight, 
Of lights the very Light ; 
Who holdest in Thy hand 
The sky and sea and land ; 
Who than the glorious heavens art more exceeding 
bright ? 

'Tis so ; faith darts before. 
And, through the cloud drawn o'er, 
She sees the God of all. 
Where angels prostrate fall. 
Adoring tremble still, and trembling still adore. 

No thunders round Thee break ; 
Yet doth Thy silence speak 
From that. Thy Teacher's seat, 
To us around Thy feet. 
To shun what flesh desires, what flesh abhors to seek. 


34 The Book of Praise. 

Within us, Babe divine, 
Be born, and make us Thine ; 
Within our souls reveal 
Thy love and power to heal ; 
Be born, and make our hearts Thy cradle and Thy 

Isaac Williams. 1839. 


What sudden blaze of song 

Spreads o'er the expanse of Heaven ? 
In waves of light it thrills along, 
Th' angelic signal given : 
Glory to God ! from yonder central fire 
Flows out the echoing lay beyond the starry quire. 

Like circles widening round 

Upon a clear blue river, 
Orb after orb, the wondrous sound 
Is echoed on for ever: 
" Glory to God on high, on earth be peace, 
And love towards men of love, salvation and 
release ! " 

Yet stay, before thou dare 

To join that festal throng ; 
Listen, and mark what gentle air 
First stirred the tide of song : 
'Tis not, " the Saviour born in David's home. 
To whom for power and health obedient w^orlds 
should come." 

'Tis not, "the Christ the Lord :" 
With fixed adoring look 

Christ I Jt earn ate. 35 

The quire of angels caught the word, 
Nor yet their silence broke : 
But when they heard the sign, where Christ 
should be, 
In sudden light they shone, and heavenly harmony. 

Wrapped in His swaddling bands. 

And in His manger laid. 
The Hope and Glory of all lands 
Is come to the world's aid : 
No peaceful home upon His cradle smiFd ; 
Guests rudely went and came, where slept the royal 

But where Thou dwellest, Lord, 
No other thought should be, 
Once duly welcomed and adoi-'d. 
How should I part with Thee ? 
Bethlehem must lose Thee soon ; but Thou wilt 
The single heart to be Thy sure abiding place. 

Thee, on the bosom laid 
Of a pure virgin mind, 
In quiet ever and in shade 
Shepherd and sage may find ; 
They, who have bowed untaught to Nature's 
And they, who follow Truth along her star-paved 

The pastoral spirits first 

Approach Thee, Babe divine ; 
For they in lowly thoughts are nurst, 

Meet for Thy lowly shrine : 
D 2 

36 The Book of Praise. 

Sooner than they should miss where Thou dost 
Angels from Heaven will stoop to guide them to 
Thy cell. 

Still, as the day comes round 

For Thee to be reveal'd, 
By wakeful shepherds Thou art found 
Abiding in the field : 
All though the wintry heaven and chill night air 
In music and in light Thou dawnest on their prayer. 

O faint not ye for fear ! 

What though your wandering sheep. 
Reckless of what they see and hear 
Lie lost in wilful sleep ? 
High Heaven, in mercy to your sad annoy. 
Still greets you with glad tidings of immortal joy. 

Think on the eternal home 
The Saviour left for you ; 
Think on the Lord most Holy, come 
To dwell with hearts untrue : 
So shall ye tread untired His pastoral ways. 
And in the darkness sing your carol of high praise. 

JohnKeble. 1827. 


'Tis come, the time so oft foretold, 
The time eternal love forecast ; 

Four thousand years of hope have rolled. 
And God hath sent His Son at last ; 

Let heaven, let earth, adore the plan ; 

Glory to God, and grace to man ! 

Christ Incarnate. 37 

To swains that watch'd their nightly fold, 

Of lowly lot, of lowly mind. 
To these the tidings first were told, 

That told of hope for lost mankind ; 
God gives His Son ; no more He can ; 
Glory to God, and grace to man ! 

And well to shepherds first 'tis known. 
The Lord of angels comes from high. 

In humblest aspect like their own, 
Good Shepherd, for His sheep to die : 

O height and depth, which who shall span ? 

Glory to God, and grace to man ! 

Fain with those meek, those happy swains. 
Lord, I would hear that angel quire ; 

Till, ravished by celestial strains. 
My heart responds with holy fire ; 

(That holy fire Thy breath must fan ;) 

Glory to God, and grace to man ! 

Thomas Grhifield. 1836. 


While shepherds watched their flocks by night 

All seated on the ground. 
The angel of the Lord came down, 

And glory shone around. 

" Fear not,*' said he ; (for mighty dread 
Had seized their troubled mind ;) 

" Glad tidings of great joy I bring 
" To you and all mankind. 

38 ■" TJie Book of Pi'aise. 

"To you, in David's town, this day 

" Is born of David's line 
" The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord ; 

" And this shaU be the sign. 

" The heavenly Babe you there shall find 

" To human view displayed, 
" All meanly wrapt in swathing bands, 

" And in a manger laid." 

Thus spake the Seraph ; and forthwith 

A_ppeared a shining throng 
Of angels, praising God, and thus 

Address'd their joyful song. 

" All glory be to God on high, 

" And to the earth be peace ; 
" Good will henceforth from Heaven to men 

Nahum Tate. 1703. 


Hark ! how all the welkin rings 
Glory to the King of kings ! 
Peace on earth, and mercy mild, 
God and sinners reconciled ! 
Joyful, all ye nations, rise. 
Join the triumph of the skies ; 
Universal nature say, 
Christ the Lord is born to-day ! 

Christ, by highest Heaven adorea ; 
Christ, the Everlasting Lord ; 
Late in time behold Him come, 
Offspring of a Virgin's womb : 

Christ Incarnate. 39 

Veiled in flesh the Godhead see ; 
Hail, th' Incarnate Deity, 
Pleased as man with men to appear, 
Jesus, our Immanuel here ! 

Hail ! the heavenly Prince of Peace ! 
Hail ! the Sun of Righteousness ! 
Light and life to all He brings, 
Risen with healing in His Avings. 
Mild He lays His glory by, 
Born that man no more may die, 
Born to raise the sons of earth, 
Born to give them second birth. 

Come, Desire of nations, come, 

Fix in us Thy humble home ! 

Rise, the Woman's conquering Seed, 

Bruise in us the Serpent's head ! 

Now display Thy saving power. 

Ruined nature now restore. 

Now in mystic union join 

Thine to ours, and ours to Thine ! 

Adam's likeness. Lord, efface ; 
Stamp Thy image in its place ; 
Second Adam from above. 
Reinstate us in Thy love ! 
Let us Thee, though lost, regain. 
Thee, the Life, the Heavenly Man : 
O I to all Thyself impart, 
Formed in each believing heart ! 

Charles Wesley. 1743, 

40 The Book of Praise. 


We'll sing, in spite of scorn : 

Our tlieme is conie from Heaven : 
To us a Child is born, 
To us a Son is given ; 
The sweetest news that ever came 
We'll sing, though all the world should blame. 

The long-expected morn 

Has dawn'd upon the earth ; 
The Saviour Christ is born, 
And angels sing His birth : 
We'll join the bright seraphic throng, 
We'll share their joys, and swell their song. 

O ! 'tis a lofty theme. 

Supplied by angels' tongues ! 
All other objects seem 
Unw^orthy of our songs. 
This sacred theme has boundless charms^ 
It fills, it captivates, it warms. 

Now sing of peace divine, 
Of grace to guilty man ; 
No wisdom, Lord, but Thine 
Could form the wondrous plan ; 
Where peace and righteousness embrace, 
And justice goes along with grace. 

Give praise to God on high. 

With angels round His throne ; 
Give praise to God with joy, 
Give praise to God alone ! 
'Tis meet His saints their songs should raise, 
And give the Saviour endless praise. 

TJiofnas Kelly. 1806 — 18;: 

Christ Incarnate. 41 


The scene around me disappears, 
And, borne to ancient regions, 

While time recalls the flight of years, 
I see angehc legions 

Descending in an orb of light : 

Amidst the dark and silent night 
I hear celestial voices. 

Tidings, glad tidings from above 

To every age and nation ! 
Tidings, glad tidings ! God is Love, 

To man He sends salvation ! 
His Son beloved, His only Son, 
The work of mercy hath begun ; 

Give to His Name the glory ! 

Through David's city I am led ; 

Here all around are sleeping ; 
A Light directs to yon poor shed ; 

There lonely watch is keeping : 
I enter ; ah ! what glories shine ! 
Is this Immanuel's earthly shrine, 

Messiah's infant Temple ? 

It is, it is ; and I adore 

This Stranger meek and lowly. 
As saints and angels bow before 

The throne of God thrice Holy ! 
Faith through the veil of flesh can see 
The Face of Thy Divinity, 

My Lord, my God, my Saviour ! 

James Montgomery. 1825. 

42 The Book of Praise. 


Though rude winds usher thee, sweet day, 

Though clouds thy face deform, 
Though nature's grace is swept av/ay 
Before thy sleety storm ; 
EVn in thy sombrest wintry vest, 
Of blessed days thou art most blest. 

Nor frigid air nor gloomy morn 

Shall check our jubilee ; 
Bright is the day when Christ was born, 
No sun need shine but He ; 
Let roughest storms their coldest blow, 
With love of Him our hearts shall glow. 

Inspired v^ith high and holy thought. 

Fancy is on the wing ; 
It seems as to mine ear it brought 
Those voices carolling. 
Voices through heaven and earth that ran, 
Glory to God, good will to man. 

I see the shepherds gazing wild 
At those fair spirits of light ; 
I see them bending o'er the Child 
With that untold delight 
Which marks the face of those who view 
Things but too happy to be true. 

There, in the lowly manger laid, 

Incarnate God they see ; 
He stoops to take, through spotless maid, 
Our frail humanity : 
Son of high God, creation's Heir, 
He leaves His Heaven to raise us there 

Christ hicarnaie. 43 

Through Him, Lord, we are born anew, 

Thy children once again ; 
Oil ! day by day our hearts renew, 
That Thine we may remain, 
And, angel-hke, may all agree. 
One sweet and holy family. 

Oft, as this joyous morn doth come 

To speak our Saviour's love, 
Oh, may it bear our spirits home. 
Where He now reigns above ; 
That day which brought Him from the skies. 
And man restores to Paradise ! 

Then let winds usher thee, sweet day. 

Let clouds thy face deform ; 
Though nature's grace is swept away 
Before thy sleety storm ; 
Ev'n in thy sombrest wintry vest 
Of blessed days thou art most blest. 

Sam uel Richards. 1825. 


It came upon the midnight clear, 

That glorious song of old. 
From angels bending near the earth 

To touch their harps of gold : 
" Peace to the earth, goodwill to men 

From Heaven's all-gracious King :" 
The world in solemn stillness lay 

To hear the angels sing. 

Still through the cloven skies they come 
With peaceful wings unfurl'd ; 

44 The Book of Praise. 

And still their heavenly music floats 

O'er all the weary world : 
Above its sad and lowly plains 

They bend on heavenly wing, 
And ever o'er its Babel sounds 

The blessed angels sing. 

Yet with the woes of sin and strife 

The world has suffered long ; 
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled 

Two thousand years of wrong ; 
And men, at war with men, hear not 

The love-song which they bring : 
Oh ! hush the noise, ye men of strife, 

And hear the angels sing ! 

And ye, beneath life's crushing load 

Whose forms are bending low, 
Who toil along the chmbing way 

With painful steps and slow ; 
Look now ! for glad and golden hours 

Come swiftly on the wing : 
Oh ! rest beside the weary road, 

And hear the angels sing ! 

For lo ! the days are hastening on, 

By prophet-bards foretold. 
When with the ever-circling years 

Comes round the age of gold ; 
When Peace shall over all the earth 

Its ancient splendours fling, 
And the whole world send back the song 

Which now the angels sing. 

Edmund H. Sears, [il 

Clirist Incarnate, 45 


The race that long in darkness pined 

Have seen a glorious Light ; 
The people dwell in Day, who dwelt 

In Death's surrounding night. 

To hail Thy rise, Thou better Sun, 

The gathering nations come, 
Joyous as when the reapers bear 

The harvest-treasures home. 

For Thou our burden hast removed, 

And quell'd th' oppressor's sway, 
Quick as the slaughtered squadrons fell 

In Midian's evil day. 

To us a Child of Hope is born, 

To us a Son is given ; 
Him shall the tribes of earth obey, 

Him all the hosts of heaven. 

His Name shall be the Prince of Peace, 

For evermore adored, 
The Wonderful, the Counsellor, 

The great and mighty Lord. 

His power increasing still shall spread. 

His reign no end shall know : 
Justice shall guard His throne above, 

And Peace abound below. 

Jo/ut Morrison. 1770. 

46 The Book of Praise. 


Bright v/as the guiding star that led 

With mild benignant ray 
The Gentiles to the lowly shed, 

Where the Redeemer lay. 

But lo ! a brighter, clearer light 

Now points to His abode ; 
It shines through sin and sorrow's night, 

To guide us to our God. 

O haste to follow where it leads ; 

The gracious call obey ; 
Be rugged wilds, or flowery meads. 

The Christian's destined way. 

O gladly tread the narrow path 
While light and grace are given ! 

Who meekly follow Christ on earth, 
Shall reign with Him in heaven. 

Harriett A nber. i S29. 


As with gladness men of old 
Did the guiding star behold ; 
As with joy they hailed its light, 
Leading onward, beaming bright ; 
So, most gracious God, may we 
Evermore be led to Thee. 

As with joyful steps they sped 
To that lowly manger-bed ; 
There to bend the knee before 
' Him whom heaven and earth adore 

CJirist Incarnate. 47 

So may we with willing feet 
Ever seek Thy mercy-seat. 

As they offered gifts most rare 
At that manger rude and bare ; 
So may we with holy-joy, 
Pure, and free from sin's alloy, 
All our costhest treasures bring, 
Christ, to Thee, our heavenly King. 

Holy Jesus ! every day 
Keep us in the narrow way ; 
And, when earthly things are past. 
Bring our ransomed souls at last 
Where they need no star to guide, 
Where no clouds Thy glory hide. 

In the heavenly country bright 
Need they no created light ; 
Thou its Light, its Joy, its Crown, 
Thou its Sun, which goes not down : 
There for ever may we sing 
Alleluias to our King. 

William Chatterton Dix. 1B60. 


Hark, the glad sound ! the'Saviour comes, 

The Saviour promised long ; 
Let every heart prepare a throne, 

And every voice a song ! 

He comes, the prisoners to release 

In Satan's bondage held ; 
The gates of brass before Him burst. 

The iron fetters yield. 

48 The Book of Praise. 

He comes, from thickest films of vice 

To clear the mental ray, 
And on the eye-balls of the blind 

To pour celestial day. 

He comes, the broken heart to bind, 

The bleeding soul to cure, 
And with the treasures of His grace 

To enrich the humble poor. 

Our glad Hosannas, Prince of Peace, 

Thy welcome shall proclaim, 
And heaven's eternal arches ring 

With thy beloved name. 

Philip Doddridge. 1755. 


Lo ! He comes ! let all adore Him ! 

'Tis the God of grace and truth ! 
Go ! prepare the way before Him, 

Make the rugged places smooth ! 
Lo ! He comes, the mighty Lord ! 
Great His work, and His reward. 

Let the valleys all be raised ; 

Go, and make the crooked straight ; 
Let the mountains be abased ; 

Let all nature change its state ; 
Through the desert mark a road, 
Make a highway for our God. 

Through the desert God is going, 
Through the desert waste and wild, 

Where no goodly plant is growing. 
Where no verdure ever smiled ; 

Chrkt Incarnate. 49 

But the desert shall be glad, 
And with verdure soon be clad. 

Where the thorn and briar flourish'd, 
Trees shall there be seen to grow, 

Planted by the Lord and nourish' d, 
Stately, fair, and fruitful too ; 

They shall rise on every side. 

They shall spread their branches wide. 

From the hills and lofty mountains 

Rivers shall be seen to flow, 
There the Lord will open fountains, 

Thence supply the plains below ; 
As He passes, every land 
Shall confess His powerful hand. 

Thotnas Kelly. 1 809. 


Psalm XCVHL 

Joy to the world, the Lord is come : 

Let earth receive her King ; 
Let every heart prepare Him room, 

And heaven and nature sing. 

Joy to the earth ! the Saviour reigns ; 

Let men their songs employ ; 
While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains 

Repeat the sounding joy. 

No more let sins and sorrows grow, 

Nor thorns infest the ground : 
He comes to make His blessings flow 

Far as the curse is found. 

50 TJie Book of Praise. 

He rules the world with truth and grace, 

And makes the nations prove 
The glories of His righteousness, 

And wonders of His love. 

Isaac Waits, 1709. 


Thus saith God of His Anointed ; 

He shall let My people go ; 
'Tis the work for Him appointed, 

'Tis the work that He shall do ; 
And My city 
He shall found, and build it too. 

He whom man with scorn refuses, 
Whom the favoured nation hates, 

He it is Jehovah chooses, 

Him the highest place awaits ; 
Kings and princes 

Shall do homage at His gates. 

He shall humble all the scorners, 
He shall fill His foes with shame ; 

He shall raise and comfort mourners 
By the sweetness of His Name ; 
To the captives 

He shall liberty proclaim. 

He shall gather those that wander'd ; 

When they hear the trumpet's sound, 
They shall join the sacred standard, 
They shall come and flock around ; 

He shall save them. 
They shall be with glory crown'd. 

Thomas Keily. 1 809. 

Christ hicarnate. 5 1 


for a thousand tongues to sing 

My dear Redeemer's praise, 
The glories of my God and King, 

The triumphs of His grace ! 

My gracious Master and my God, 

Assist me to proclaim, 
To spread, through all the earth abroad. 

The honours of Thy Name. 

Jesus, the Name that charms our fears, 

That bids our sorrows cease ; 
'Tis music in the sinner's ears, 

'Tis life, and health, and peace ! 

He speaks, and, listening to His voice, 

New life the dead receive ; 
The mournful, broken hearts rejoice. 

The humble poor believe. 

Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb, 
Your loosened tongues employ ; 

Ye blmd, behold your Saviour come, 
And leap, ye lame, for joy ! 

Charles Wesley. 1743. 


How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds 

In a believer's car! 
It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, 

And drive§ away his fear! 
E ?. 

52 The Book of Praise. 

It makes the wounded spirit whole. 
And cahns the troubled breast ; 

'Tis manna to the hungry soul, 
And to the weary rest. 

Dear Name ! the rock on which I build, 

My shield and hiding-place, 
My never-failing treasury, fill'd 

With boundless stores of grace, 

By Thee my prayers acceptance gain, 

Although with sin defiled ; 
Satan accuses me in vain, 

And I am owned a child. 

Jesus, my Shepherd, Husband, Friend, 
My Prophet, Priest, and King, 

My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End, 
Accept the praise I bring. 

Weak is the effort of my heart. 
And cold my warmest thought ; 

But, when I see Thee as Thou art, 
I'll praise Thee as I ought. 

Till then, I would Thy love proclaim 

With every fleeting breath ; 
And may the music of Thy Name 

Refresh my soul in death ! 

John Newton. 1 779. 

Christ Crucified, 53 


And was Crucified for tis under Pontius Pilate ; He 
suffered, and iv as buried.'"' 


When I survey the wondrous cross 
On which the Prince of glory died, 

My richest gain I count but loss, 
And pour contempt on all my pride. 

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast 
Save in the death of Christ, my God ; 

All the vain things that charm me most 
I sacrifice them to His blood. 

See from His head, His hands, His feet, 
Sorrow and love flow mingled down ! 

Did e'er such love and sorrow meet. 
Or thorns compose so rich a crown ? 

Were the whole realm of nature mine. 
That were a present far too small ; 

Demands my soul, my life, my all 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 


We sing the praise of Him Who died, 
Of Him Who died upon the cross ; 

The sinner's hope let men deride. 
For this wc count the world but loss. 

54 1 he Book of Praise. 

Inscribed upon the cross we see 
In shining letters, God is Love ; 

He bears our sins upon the tree, 
He brings us mercy from above. 

The Cross ! it takes our guilt away ; 

It holds the fainting spirit up ; 
It cheers with hope the gloomy day, 

And sweetens every bitter cup ; 

It makes the coward spirit brave, 
And nerves the feeble arm for fight ; 

It takes its terror from the grave, 
And gilds the bed of death with light ; 

The balm of life, the cure of woe. 
The measure and the pledge of love, 

The sinner's refuge here below, 
The angels' theme in heaven above. 

Thomas Kelly. 1 820. 

Lord Jesu, when we stand afar 
And gaze upon Thy Holy Cross, 

In love of Thee and scorn of self, 
Oh ! may we count the world as loss. 

When we behold Thy bleeding wounds, 
And the rough way that Thou hast trod. 

Make us to hate the load of sin 
That lay so heavy on our God. 

Oh holy Lord ! uplifted high 

With outstretched arms, in mortal woe. 
Embracing in Thy wondrous love 

The sinful world that lies below. 

Christ Ci'itcijicd. 55 

Give us an ever living faith 
To gaze beyond the things we see ; 

And in the mystery of Thy Death 
Draw us and all men unto Thee ! 

William WaWiam How. [1854.] 


Beneath Thy cross I lay me down, 
And mourn to see Thy bloody crown ; 
Love drops in blood from every vein ; 
Love is the spring of all His pain. 

Here, Jesus, I shall ever stay, 
And spend my longing hours away, 
Think on Thy bleeding wounds and pain. 
And contemplate Thy woes again. 

The rage of Satan and of sin, 
Of foes without, and fears within, 
Shall ne'er my conquering soul remove 
Or from Thy cross, or from Thy love. 

Secured from harms beneath Thy shade, 
Here death and hell shall ne'er invade ; 
Nor Sinai, with its thundering noise. 
Shall e'er disturb my happier joys. 

O unmolested happy rest ! 
Where inward fears are all supprest ; 
Here I shall love, and live secure. 
And patiently my cross endure. 

Williain Williams. 1772. 

56 The Book of Pi'aise. 


Plunged in a gulf of dark despair 

We wretched sinners lay, 
Without one cheerful beam of hope, 

Or spark of glimmering day. 

With pitying eyes the Prince of Grace 

Beheld our helpless grief : 
He saw, and oh! amazing love! 

He ran to our relief. 

Down from the shining seats above 

With jo}^ul haste He fled ; 
Entered the grave in mortal flesh, 

And dwelt among the dead. 

Oh ! for this love, let rocks and hills 

Their lasting silence break. 
And all harmonious human tongues 

The Saviour's praises speak ! 

Angels, assist our mighty joys ; 

Strike all your harps of gold ! 
But, when you raise your highest notes, 

His love can ne'er be told. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 


Psalm VH I. 
O Lord, how good, how great art Thou, 

In heaven and earth the same ! 
There angels at Thy footstool bow, 

Here babes Thy grace proclaim. 

Christ Crucijied. 57 

When glorious in the nightly sky 

Thy moon and stars I see, 
O, what is man ! I wondering cry, 

To be so loved by Thee ! 

To him Thou hourly deign'st to give 

New mercies from on high ; 
Didst quit Thy Throne with him to live, 

For him in pain to die. 

Close to Thine own bright seraphim 

His favoured path is trod ; 
And all beside are serving him, 

That he may serve his God. 

O Lord, how good, how great art Thou, 

In heaven and earth the same ! 
There angels at Thy footstool bow, 

Here babes Thy grace proclaim. 

Henry Francis Lyte. 1 834, 


Blow ye the trumpet, blow, 

The gladly solemn sound ; 
Let all the nations know. 
To earth's remotest bound ; 
The year of Jubilee is come ; 
Return, ye ransomed sinners, home. 

Jesus, our great High Priest, 

Hath full atonement made ; 
Ye weary spirits, rest ; 

Ye mournful souls, be glad : 
The year of Jubilee is come ; 
Return, ye ransomed sinners, home. 

$8 The Book of Praise, 

Extol the Lamb of God, 

The all-atoning Lamb ; 
Redemption in His blood 

Throughout the world proclaim : 
The year of Jubilee is come ; 
Return, ye ransomed sinners, home. 

Your liberty receive ; 
And safe in Jesus dwell, 
And blest in Jesus live : 
The year of Jubilee is come ; 
Return, ye ransomed sinners, home. 

Your heritage above, 
Shall have it back unbought, 

The gift of Jesus' love ; 
The year of Jubilee is come ; 
Return, ye ransomed sinners, home. 

The Gospel Trumpet hear, 

The news of heavenly grace ; 
And, saved from earth, appear 
Before your Saviour's face : 
The year of Jubilee is come ; 
Return, ye ransomed sinners, home, 

Charles Wesley. 1751. 


Now let us join with hearts and tongues, 
And emulate the angels' songs ; 
Yea, sinners may address their King 
In songs that angels cannot sing. 

Christ Onicified. 55 

They praise the Lamb who once was slain ; 
But we can add a higher strain ; 
Not only say, He suffered thus, 
But that He suffered all for us. 

Jesus, who pass'd the angels by, 
Assumed our flesh to bleed and die ; 
And still He makes it His abode ; 
As man He fills the throne of God. 

Our next of kin, our Brother now, 
Is He to whom the angels bow ; 
They join with us to praise His Name, 
But we the nearest interest claim. 

But ah ! how faint our praises rise ! 
Sure 'tis the wonder of the skies. 
That we, w^ho share His richest love, 
So cold and unconcern'd should prove. 

O glorious hour ! it comes with speed. 
When we, from sin and darkness freed, 
Shall see the God who died for man. 
And praise Him more than angels can. 

John Newton. 1779 


Saviour, may we never rest 

Till Thou art form'd within ; 
Till Thou hast calm'd our troubled breast, 

And crush'd the power of sin. 

O may we gaze upon Thy cross, 

Until the wondrous sight 
Makes earthly treasures seem but dross, 

And earthly sorrows liglit. 

6o The Book of Praise. 

Until, releas'd from carnal ties, 

Our spirit upward springs. 
And sees true peace above the skies, 

True joy in heavenly things. 

There as we gaze, may we become 

United, Lord, to Thee ; 
And in a fairer, happier home, 

Thy perfect beauty see. 

William Hiley Bathnrst. 1831. 


Saviour, I lift my trembling eyes 

To that bright seat, where, placed on high, 
The great, the atoning Sacrifice, 

For me, for all, is ever nigh. 

Be Thou my guard on peril's brink ; 

Be Thou my guide through weal or woe ; 
And teach me of Thy cup to drink, 

And make me in Thy path to go. 

For what is earthly change or loss ? 

Thy promises are still my own : 
The feeblest frame may bear Thy cross, 

The lowliest spirit share Thy Throne. 

Alton, "J/. G. r." 1 83 1. 

CJiJ'ist Risen. 6l 



And the third day He rose again, according to the 
Scriptures. " 


Again the Lord of Life and Light 

Awakes the kindhng ray, 
Unseals the eyelids of the morn, 

And pours increasing day. 

O what a night was that which wrapt 

The heathen world in gloom ! 
O what a sun, which broke this day 

Triumphant from the tomb ! 

This day be grateful homage paid, 

And loud hosannas sung ; 
Let gladness dwell in every heart, 

And praise on every tongue. 

Ten thousand differing lips shall join 

To hail this welcome morn. 
Which scatters blessings from its wings 

To nations yet unborn. 

The powers of darkness leagued in vain 

To bind His Soul in death ; 
He shook their kingdom, when He fell, 

With His expiring breath. 

62 The Book of Praise. 

And ROW His conquering chariot wheels 

Ascend the lofty skies ; 
While broke beneath His powerful cross 

Death's iron sceptre lies. 

Exalted high at God's right hand, 

The Lord of all below, 
Through Him is pardoning love dispens'd, 

And boundless blessings flow. 

And still for erring guilty man 

A Brother s pity flows ; 
And still His bleeding heart is touch'd 

With memory of our woes. 

To Thee, my Saviour and my King, 

Glad homage let me give ; 
And stand prepared like Thee to die, 

With Thee that I may live ! 

Anna Lcetitia Barbauld. i ']']i. 


Christ the Lord is risen to-day, 
Sons of men and angels say : 
Raise your joys and triumphs high. 
Sing, ye heavens, and earth reply. 

Love's redeeming work is done, 
Fought the fight, the battle won : 
Lo ! our Sun's eclipse is o'er ; 
Lo ! He sets in blood no more. 

Vain the stone, the watch, the seal ; 
Christ hath burst the gates of hell ! 

Christ Risen. 63 

Death in vain forbids His rise ; 
Christ hath open'd Paradise ! 

Lives again our glorious King : 
Where, O Death, is now thy sting ? 
Once He died, our souls to save : 
Where thy victory, O Grave ? 

Soar we now where Christ has led, 
Following our exalted Head ; 
Made like Him, like Him we rise ; 
Ours the cross, the grave, the skies. 

What though once we perish'd all, 
Partners in our parents' fall ? 
Second life we all receive. 
In our Heavenly Adam live. 

Risen with Him, we upward move ; 
Still we seek the things above ; 
Still pursue, and kiss the Son 
Seated on His Father's Throne. 

Scarce on earth a thought bestov/, 
Dead to all we leave below ; 
Heav'n our aim, and loved abode, 
Hid our life with Christ in God : 

Hid, till Christ our Life appear 
Glorious in His members here ; 
Join'd to Him, we then shall shine, 
All immortal, all divine. 

Hail the Lord of Earth and HeaA'cn ! 
Praise to Thee by both be given ! 
Thee we greet triumphant now ! 
Hail, the Resurrection Thou ! 


The Booh of Praise. 

King of glory, Soul of bliss ! 
Everlasting life is this, 
Thee to know, Thy power to prove, 
Thus to sing, and thus to love ! 

Charles Wesley. 1743. 


Jesus Christ is risen to-day, 
Our triumphant holy day. 
Who did once upon the cross 
Suffer to redeem our loss ; 

Hymns af praise then let us sing 
Unto Christ our heavenly King, 
Who endured the cross and grave, 
Sinners to redeem and save ; 

But the pain which He endured. 
Our salvation has procured : 
Now above the sky He's king. 
Where the angels ever sing 

Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 

Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 

Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 
Hallelujah ! 

Sing we to our God above Hallelujah ! 

Praise eternal as His love ; Hallelujah ! 

Praise Him, all ye heavenly host, Hallelujah ! 

Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ; Hallelujah ! 

Afioji. [1750.] 
{Last stanza by Charles Wesley.) 

Ad temp la nos 7'ursiis vocat. 

Now morning lifts her dcAvy veil 
With new-born blessings crown'd : 

Oh ! haste we then her light to hail 
In courts of holy ground ! 

Christ Risen, 65 

But Christ, triumphant o'er the grave, 

Shines more divinely bright : 
Oh ! sing we then His power to save, 

And walk wc in His light ! 

When from the swaddling bands of shade, 

Sprang forth the world so fair, 
In robes of brilliancy arrayed, 

Oh, what a Power was there ! 

When He, who gave His guiltless Son 

A guilty world to spare, 
Restored to life the Holy One, 

Oh, what a Love was there ! 

When forth from its Creator's hand 

The earth in beauty stood, 
All decked with light at His command. 

He saw, and called it good. 

But still more lovely in His sight. 

The earth still fairer stood, 
When the Holy Lamb had wash'd it white 

In His atoning blood. 

Still, as the morning rays return, 

To the pious soul 'tis given 
In fancy's mirror to discern 

The radiant domes of Heaven. 

But now that our eternal Sun 

Hath shed His beams abroad, 
In Him we see the Holy One, 

And mount at once to God. 

66 The Book of Praise. 

Oh, holy, blessed Three in One ! 
May Thy pure light be given, 
That we the paths of death may shun, 
And keep the road to Heaven ! 

JoJdi Chmidler. 1837. 
Variation from Isaac Wil'iams. 


The Son of God ! the Lord of Life ! 

How wondrous are His ways ! 
O for a harp of thousand strings, 

To sound abroad his praise ! 
How passing strange, to leave the seat 

Of Heaven's eternal throne, 
And hosts of glittering Seraphim, 

For guilty man alone ! 

And did He bow His sacred head, 

And die a death of shame ? 
Let men and angels magnify 

And bless His holy name ! 
O let us live in peace and love, 

And cast away our pride, 
And crucify our sins afresh. 

As He was crucified ! 

He rose again ; then let us rise 

From sin, and Christ adore. 
And dwell in peace with all mankind, 

And tempt the Lord no more : 
The Son of God \ the Lord of Life ! 

How wondrous are His ways ! 
O for a harp of thousand strings 

To sound abroad His praise ! 

George Mogridgc. [i 85 1 .] 

Christ Rtsm. 67 


Salvation ! oh ! the joyful sound ! 

'Tis pleasure to our ears ! 
A sovereign balm for every wound, 

A cordial- for our fears ! 

Buried in sorrow and in sin, 

At hell's dark door we lay ; 
But we arise, by grace Divine, 

To see a heavenly day. 

Salvation ! let the echo fly 

The spacious earth around, 
While all the armies of the sky 

Conspire to raise the sound ! 

Isaac Watfs. 1709 


The foe behind, the deep before, 

Our hosts have dared and past the sea 
And Pharaoh's warriors strew the shore, 
And Israel's ransom'd tribes are free. 
Lift up, lift up your voices now ! 
The whole wide world rejoices now ! 
The Lord hath triumph'd gloriously ! 
The Lord shall reign victoriously ! 
Happy morrow, 
Turning sorrow 

Into peace and mirth ! 
Bondage ending, 
Love descending 
O'er the earth ! 
F 2 

68 The Book of Praise. 

Seals assuring, 
Guards securing, 

Watch His earthly prison : 
Seals are shattered. 
Guards are scattered, 

Christ hath risen ! 

No longer must the mourners weep. 

Nor call departed Christians dead ; 
For death is hallowed into sleep 
And every grave becomes a bed. 
Now once more, 
Eden's door 
Open stands to mortal eyes ; 
For Christ hath risen, and men shall rise : 
Now at last, 
Old things past, 
Hope and joy and peace begin : 
For Christ hath won, and man shall v/in. 

It is not exile, rest on high : 

It is not sadness, peace from strife : 
To fall asleep is not to die ; 

To dwell with Christ is better life. 
Where our banner leads us, 

We may safely go : 
Where our Chief precedes us. 

We may face the foe. 
His right arm is o'er us, 

He will guide us through ; 
Christ hath gone before us ; 
Christians ! follow you ! 

John Masoti Neale. 1851. 

Christ A sce?ided. 69 



" And ascended into Heaven ; and sitteth on the right 
hand of the Father.''^ 


Thou art gone up on high 

To mansions in the skies, 
And round Thy throne unceasingly 

The songs of praise arise. 
But we are lingering here 

With sin and care oppress'd ; 
Lord ! send Thy promised Comforter, 

And lead us to Thy rest ! 

Thou art gone up on high : 

But Thou didst first come down, 
Through earth's most bitter agony 

To pass unto Thy crown : 
And girt with griefs and fears 

Our onward course must be ; 
But only let that path of tears 

Lead us, at last, to Thee ! 

Thou art gone up on high : 

But Thou shalt come again 
With all the bright ones of the sky 

Attendant in Thy train. 
Oh ! by Thy saving power 

So make us live and die, 
That we may stand, in that dread hour, 

At Thy right hand on high ! 

Emma Tohe. 1351. 

70 The Book of Praise. 


Thou, who didst stoop below 

To drain the cup of woe 
And wear the form of frail mortahty, 

Thy blessed labours done, 

Thy crown of victory won. 
Hast pass'd from earth, pass'd to Thy home on 

It was no path of flowers 

Through this dark world of ours. 
Beloved of the Father, Thou didst tread : 

And shall we in dismay 

Shrink from the narrow way, 
When clouds and darkness are around it spread ? 

O Thou, who art our life, 

Be with us through the strife ! 
Thy own meek head by rudest storms was bowed ; 

Raise Thou our eyes above, 

To see a Father s love 
Beam, like a bow of promise, through the cloud. 

E'en through the awful gloom 
Which hovers o'er the tomb, 
That light of love our guiding star shall be : 
Our spirits shall not dread 
^he shadowy way to tread. 
Friend, Guardian, Saviour I which doth lead to 

S 11 sail L. Miles. [1840.] 

Christ A sc ended. 7 1 


To Him, who for our sins was slain, 
To Him, for all His dying pain, 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 
To Him, the Lamb our sacrifice, 
Who gave His soul our ransom-price, 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 

To Him, who died that we might die 
To sin, and live with Him on high, 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 
To Him, who rose that we might rise 
And reign with Him beyond the skies, 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 

To Him, who now for us doth plead 
And helpeth us in all our need, 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 
To Him, who doth prepare on high 
Our home in immortality. 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 

To Him be glory evermore ; 

Ye heavenly hosts, your Lord adore ; 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
One God most great, our joy and boast. 

Sing we Hallelujah ! 

Arthur Tozer Rtissdl. 1851 

Saviour, when in du^t to Thee 
Low we bend the adoring knee ; 
When repentant to the skies 
Scarce we lift our weeping eyes ; 

72 The Book of Praise. 

Oh ! by all the pains and woe 
Suffered once for man below, 
Bending from Thy throne on high, 
Hear our solemn Litany ! 

By Thy helpless infant years. 
By Thy life of want and tears, 
By Thy days of sore distress 
In the savage wilderness ; 
By the dread mysterious hour 
Of the insulting tempter's power ; 
Turn, oh ! turn a favouring eye, 
Hear our solemn Litany ! 

By the sacred griefs that wept 
O'er the grave where Lazarus slept ; 
By the boding tears that flowed 
Over Salem's lov'd abode ; 
By the anguish'd sigh that told 
Treachery lurk'd within Thy fold ; 
From Thy seat above the sky. 
Hear our solemn Litany ! 

By Thine hour of dire despair ; 
By Thine agony of prayer ; 
By the cross, the nail, the thorn, 
Piercing spear, and torturing scorn ; 
By the gloom that veil'd the skies 
O'er the dreadful sacrifice ; 
Listen to our humble cr}^, 
Hear our solemn Litany ! 

By Thy deep expiring groan ; 
By the sad sepulchral stone ; 
By the vault, whose dark abode 
Held in vain the risincf God ; 

Christ Asce7ided. 73 

Oh ! from earth to heaven restored, 
Mighty re-ascended Lord, 
Listen, Hsten to the cry 
Of our solemn Litany ! 

Sir Robe7't Grant. 1 8 1 5 . 


Saviour, who, exalted high 
In Thy Father's majesty, 
Yet vouchsaf'st Thyself to show 
To Thy faithful flock below ; 
Foretaste of that blissful sight, 
When, arrayed in glorious light, 
Beaming with paternal grace. 
They shall see Thee face to face : 
Saviour, though this earthly shroud 
Now my mortal vision cloud. 
Still Thy presence let me see, 
Manifest Thyself to me ! 

Son of God, to Thee I cry : 

By the holy mystery 

Of Thy dwelling here on earth, 

By thy pure and holy birth. 

Offspring of the Virgin's womb ; 

By the light, through midnight gloom 

Bursting on the shepherds' gaze ; 

By the angels' song of praise : 

By the leading of the star, 

The Eastern sages' guide from far ; 

By their gifts, with worship meet 

Offer'd at thy infant feet : 

Lord, Thy presence let me see, 

Manifest Thyself to me ! 

Man of sorrows, hear me cry ! 
By Thy great humility ; 

74 The Book of Praise. 

By Thy meekly-bowed head ; 
By Thy gentle spirit, fled 
To the mansions of the dead ; 
By the wound, whence issuing flow'd 
Water mingled with Thy blood ; 
By Thy breathless body, laid 
In the rock's sepulchral shade. 
Where man ne'er before reposed, 
Straightly watch'd, securely closed ; 
Lord, Thy presence let me see, 
Manifest Thyself to me ! 

Lord of Glory, God most high, 
Man exalted to the sky, 
God and man, to Thee I cry ! 
With Thy love my bosom fill, 
. Prompt me to perform Thy will ; 
Grant me, v/hat Thou bidd'st, to do ; 
What Thou proffer'st to pursue : 
So may He, the Sire above, 
Guard me with a Parent's love ! 
So may He, the Spirit blest. 
Whisper comfort, hope, and rest ! 
So mayst Thou, my Saviour, come, 
Make this froward heart Thy home, 
And manifest Thyself to me 
In the Triune Deity ! 

Bishop Richard Mant. 183: 


Jesu ! behold, the Wise from far, 
Led to Thy cradle by a star, 

Bring gifts to Thee, their God and King ! 
O guide us by Thy light, that we 
The way may find, and still to Thee 

Our hearts, our all, for tribute bring ! 

Christ Ascotded. 75 

Jesu ! the pure, the spotless Lamb, 
Who to the Temple humbly came. 

Duteous, the legal rites to pay I 
O make our proud, our stubborn will 
All Thy wise, gracious laws fulfil, 

Whate'er rebellious nature say ! 

Jesu ! who on the fatal wood 

Pour'dst out Thy life's last drop of blood, 

Nailed to the accursed shameful cross ! 
O may we bless Thy love, and be 
Ready, dear Lord, to bear for thee 

All shame, all grief, all pain, and loss I 

Jesu I who, by Thine own love slain. 
By Thine own Power took'st life again. 

And Conqueror from the grave didst rise I 
O may Thy death our souls revi\ e, 
And ev'n on earth a new life give, 

A glorious life, that never dies ! 

Jesu ! who to Thy heaven again 
Return'dst in triumph, there to reign, 

Of men and angels sovereign king I 
O may our parting souls take flight 
Up to that land of joy and light, 

And there for ever grateful sing ! 

All glory to the sacred Three, 
One undivided Deity ! 

All honour, power, and love, and praise ! 
Still may Thy blessed Name shine bright 
In beams of uncreated light, 

Crown'd with its own eternal rays ! 

Variation frovi John Austin. 166S. 
I>y John Wesley J 1739- 

76 The Book of Praise, 


Hail, Thou once despised Jesus, 

Hail, thou Galilean king ! 
Thou didst suffer to release us, 

Thou didst free salvation bring : 
Hail, Thou agonizing Saviour, 

Bearer of our sin and shame ; 
By Thy merits we find favour ; 

Life is given through Thy Name ! 

Paschal Lamb, by God appointed, 

All our sins were on Thee laid ; 
By Almighty Love anointed. 

Thou hast full atonement made : 
All Thy people are forgiven 

Through the virtue of Thy Blood \ 
Opened is the gate of Heaven ; 

Peace is made 'twixt man and God. 

Jesus, hail ! enthroned in glory, 

There for ever to abide ; 
All the heavenly hosts adore Thee, 

Seated at Thy Father's side. 
There for sinners Thou art pleading ; 

There Thou dost our place prepare ; 
Ever for us interceding 

Till in glory we appear. 

Worship, honour, power, and blessing. 

Thou art worthy to receive ; 
Loudest praises, without ceasing, 

Meet it is for us to give ! 
Help, ye bright angehc spirits. 

Bring your sweetest, noblest lays ; 
Help to sing our Saviour's merits. 

Help to chant Immanuel's praise ! 

Christ Ascended. ^7 

Soon we shall, with those in glory, 

His transcendent grace relate ; 
Gladly sing th' amazing story 

Of His dying love so great : 
In that blessed contemplation 

We for evermore shall dwell, 
Crown'd with bliss and consolation, 

Such as none below can tell. 

John Bakewell. 1 760. 


Join all the glorious names 

Of wisdom, love, and power, 

That ever mortals knew, 

That angels ever bore ; 
All are too mean to speak His worth, 
Too mean to set my Saviour forth. 

But oh ! what gentle terms. 

What condescending ways. 

Doth our Redeemer use 

To teach His heavenly grace ! 
Mine eyes with joy and wonder see 
What forms of love He bears for me. 

Array'd in mortal flesh 

He like an Angel stands. 

And holds the promises 

And pardons in His hands ; 
Commission'd from His Father's throne 
To make His grace to mortals known. 

Great Prophet of my God, 

My tongue would bless Thy Name ; 

By Thee the joyful news 

Of our salvation came ; 

78 The Book of Praise. 

The joyful news of sins forgiven. 

Of hell subdued, and peace with Heaven, 

Be Thou my Counsellor, 
My Pattern, and my Guide ; 
And through this desert land 
Still keep me near Thy side : 
Oh, let my feet ne'er run astray, 
Nor rove, nor seek the crooked way ! 

I love my Shepherd's voice ; 
His watchful eyes shall keep 
My wandering soul among 
The thousands of His sheep : 
He feeds His flock, He calls their names, 
His bosom bears the tender lambs. 

To this dear Surety's hand 

Will I commit my cause ; 

He answers and fulfils 

His Father's broken laws : 
Behold my soul at freedom set ; 
My Surety paid the dreadful debt. 

Jesus, my great High Priest, 

Offer d His Blood and died ; 

My guilty conscience seeks 

No sacrifice beside : 
His powerful Blood did once atone, 
And now it pleads before the Throne. 

]\Iy advocate appears 

For my defence on high ; 

The Father bows His ears 

And lays His thunder by : 
Not all that hell or sin can say 
Shall turn His heart, His love awav. 

Christ Ascended. ^(^ 

My dear Almighty Lord, 

My Conqueror and my King, 

Thy sceptre and Thy sword, 

Thy reigning grace, I sing : 
Thine is the power : behold I sit 
In willing bonds before Thy feet ! 

Now let my soul arise, 

And tread the Tempter down ; 

My Captain leads me forth 

To conquest and a crown ; 
A feeble saint shall win the day, 
Though death and hell obstruct the way. 

Should all the hosts of death 

And powers of hell unknown 

Put their most dreadful forms 

Of rage and mischief on, 
I shall be safe ; for Christ displays 
Superior power, and guardian grace. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 


Beyond the glittering starry globe 

P'ar as th' eternal hills. 
There, in the boundless worlds of light, 

Our great Redeemer dwells. 

Immortal angels, bright and fair, 

In countless armies shine. 
At His right hand, with golden harps, 

To offer songs divine. 

" Hail ! Prince," they cry, " for ever hail I 

Whose unexampled love 
Moved Thee to quit these glorious realms 

And royalties above !" 

8o The Book of Praise. 

While Thou didst condescend on earth 

To suffer rude disdain, 
They cast their honours at Thy feet, 

And waited on Thy train. 

Blest Angels, who adoring wait 
Around the Saviour's Throne, 

Oh ! tell us, for your eyes have seen, 
The wonders He has done. 

Ye saw Him, when the heavens and eartli. 

A chaos first, He made, 
And night involved the formless deep 

In her tremendous shade. 

And when, amidst the darksome void, 

He bade the light arise. 
And kindled up those shining orbs 

That now adorn the skies. 

Ye saw ; — and in melodious song 

Your powerful voices raise. 
While all the new-born worlds resound 

Their great Creator's praise. 

And, when on earth He deign'd to dwell, 

In mortal flesh array'd. 
Ye wondering saw the Holy Child 

In Bethlehem's stable laid. 

WTiile in the lowly crib reposed, 

His Mother's tender care. 
Ye stood around His homely bed. 

And watch'd His slumbers there. 

Christ Ascended. 1 

When fasting in the desert long 

His spotless soul was tried, 
Ye saw Him there the Tempter foil, 

And soon His wants supplied. 

Ye heard what gracious words He spoke, 

The hearts of men to win ; 
And saw, well pleased, the listening crowd 

Drink the sweet doctrine in ; 

Beheld diseases, tempests, death. 

His sovereign word obey, 
And how, on dark benighted minds, 

He poured eternal day. 

Saw Him, from busy scenes retired 

To spend the midnight hours, 
While pure devotion fill'd His soul 

With all her rapturous powers. 

When on the sacred mount He shone. 

In His own light arra/d, 
Ye saw, and own'd your Sovereign there. 

And your just homage paid ; 

Saw, when o'er Salem's fearful doom 

He shed the tender tear ; 
And how, to all His gracious calls, 

She turned the deafened ear. 

In all his toils, and dangers too. 

Ye did His steps attend ; 
Oft paused, and wondered, how at last 

This scene of love would end. 

The Book of Praise. 

And when the Powers of Hell combined 

To fill His cup of woe, 
Your pitying eyes beheld His tears 

In bloody anguish flow. 

As on the torturing Cross He hung, 

And darkness veil'd the sky. 
Ye saw, aghast, that awful sight, 

The Lord of Glory die ! 

Astonish'd, here ye search and learn 
High Heaven's mysterious ways, 

That thus to guilty dying man 
Immortal life conveys. 

Anon He bursts the gates of death, 

Subdues the tyrant's power : 
Ye saw th' illustrious Conqueror rise, 

And hailed the blissful hour, 

Tended His chariot up the sky, 

And bore Him to His Throne ; 
Then swept your golden harps, and cried 

"The glorious work is done !" 

My soul the joyful triumph feels. 

And thinks the moments long, 
Ere she her Saviour's glory sees, 

And joins your rapturous song. 

James Fa7ich and Daniel Turner. [1791.] 

Chrisfs Kingdom and yudgmenf. 83 

VI r. 


"And He shall come again ivith Glory, to judge both the 
quick and the dead : 7vhose Kingdom shall have no 


Now is the hour of darkness past ; 

Christ has assumed His reigning power; 
Behold the great accuser cast 

Down from the skies to rise no more. 

'Twas by Thy Blood, immortal Lamb, 
Thine armies trod the Tempter down ; 

'Twas by Thy word and powerful Name 
They gained the battle and renown. 

Rejoice, ye heavens ! let cvciy star 
Shine with new glories round the sky ! 

Saints, while ye sing the heavenly war, 
Raise your Deliverers Name on high I 

Isaac Walls . 1709. 


Rejoice, the Lord is King, 

Your Lord and King adore ; 
Mortals, give thanks and sing, 
And triumph evermore : 
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice ; 
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice. 
G ? 

84 The Book of Praise. 

Jesus the Saviour reigns, 

The God of truth and love ; 
When he had purged our stains, 
He took His seat above : 
Lift up your heart, hft up your voice ; 
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice. 

His kingdom cannot fail ; 

He rules o'er earth and Heaven ; 
The keys of death and hell 
Are to our Jesus given : 
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice ; 
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice. 

He sits at God's right hand. 

Till all His foes submit, 
And bow to His command, 
And fall beneath His feet : 
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice ; 
Rejoice, again I say, rejoice. 

He all His foes shall quell, 
Shall all our sins destroy, 
And every bosom swell 
With pure seraphick joy : 
Lift up your heart, lift up your voice, 
Rejoice, again I say. Rejoice. 

Rejoice in glorious hope ; 

Jesus the Judge shall come. 
And take His servants up 
To their eternal home : 
We soon shall hear th' archangel's voice, 
The Trump of God shall sound, rejoice. 

Charles Wesley. 1745, 

Chris fs Kingdo7n and Judgment. 85 


The Lord is King ! lift up thy voice, 
O earth, and all ye heavens, rejoice ! 
From world to world the joy shall ring, 
The Lord Omnipotent is King. 

The Lord is King ! who then shall dare 
Resist His will, distrust His care, 
Or murmur at His wise decrees, 
Or doubt His royal promises ? 

The Lord is King ! Child of the dust, 
The Judge of all the earth is just : 
Holy and true are all His ways : 
Let every creature speak His praise. 

He reigns ! ye saints, exalt your strains ; 
Your God is King, your Father reigns ; 
And He is at the Father's side, 
The ]Man of Love, the Crucified. 

Come, make your wants, your burdens known, 
He will present them at the Throne ; 
And angel bands are waiting there 
His messages of love to bear. 

O, when His wisdom can mistake. 
His might decay. His love- forsake. 
Then may His children cease to sing. 
The Lord Omnipotent is King. 

Alike pervaded by His eye. 

All parts of His dominion lie ; 

This world of ours, and worlds unseen ; 

And thin the boundary between. 

86 The Book of Praise. 

One Lord, one empire, all secures ; 
He reigPxS, and life and death are yours : 
Through earth and heaven one song shall ring. 
The Lord Omnipotent is King. 

Josiah Ccndci: 1824. 


He, V/ho on earth as man was known, 

And bore our sins and pains, 
Now, seated on th' eternal Throne, 

The God of Glory reigns. 

His hands the wheels of Nature guide 

With an unerring skill. 
And countless worlds, extended wide, 

Obey His sovereign will. 

While harps unnumbered sound His praise 

In yonder world above, 
His saints on earth admire His Avays 

And glory in His love. 

His Righteousness, to faith reveal' d, 
Wrought out for guilty worms, 

Affords a hiding-place and shield 
From enemies and storms. 

This land, through which PI is pilgrims go. 

Is desolate and dry ; 
But streams of grace from Him o'erflow, 

Their thirst to satisfy. 

When troubles, like a burning sun, 

Beat heavy on their head. 
To this Almighty Rock they run^ 

And find a pleasing shade. 

Christ's Kingdom and Judgment. 87 

How glorious He ! how happy they 

In such a glorious Friend ! 
Whose love secures them all the way, 

And crowns them at the end. 

John Newton. 1779. 


The Head that once was crovv-n'd with thorns. 

Is crown'd with glory now ; 
A royal diadem adorns 

The mighty Victor's brow. 

The highest place that Heaven affords 

Is His, is His by right, 
The King of kings, and Lord of lords. 

And Heaven's eternal Light. 

The joy of all who dwell above, 

The joy of all below, 
To whom He manifests His love. 

And grants His Name to know. 

To them the Cross, with all its shame. 

With all its grace, is given ; 
Their name an everlasting name. 

Their joy the joy of Heaven. 

They suffer with their Lord below, 

They reign with Him above, 
Their prot^t and their joy to know 

The mystery of His love. 

The cross He bore is life and health, 
Though shame and death to Him : 

His people's hope, ?Iis people's wealth, 
Their everlasting theme. 

Thomas Kelly. 182a 

88 The Book of Praise. 


Hosanna ! raise the pealing hymn 

To David's Son and Lord ; 
With Cherubim and Seraphim 

Exalt the Incarnate Word. 

Hosanna ! Lord, our feeble tongue 

No lofty strains can raise : 
But Thou wilt not despise the young, 

Who meekly chant Thy praise. 

Hosanna ! Sovereign, Prophet, Priest, 
How vast Thy gifts, how free ! 

Thy Blood, our life ; Thy word, our feast 
Thy Name, our only plea. 

Hosanna ! Master, lo ! we bring 
Our offerings to Thy Throne ; 

Not gold, nor myrrh, nor mortal thing, 
But hearts to be Thine own. 

Hosanna I once Thy gracious ear 

Approved a lisping throng ; 
Be gracious still, and deign to hear 

Our poor but grateful song. 

O Saviour, if, redeem'd by Thee, 

Thy temple we behold, 
Hosannas through eternity 

We'll sing to harps of gold. 

William Hemy Havergal. 1 833. 

Christ's Kingdom and Judgment. 


Psalm LXXII. 

Hail to the Lord's Anointed, 

Great David's greater Son ! 
Hail, in the time appointed. 

His reign on earth begun ! 
He comes to break oppression, 

To let the captive free. 
To take away transgression, 

And rule in equity. 

He comes with succour speedy, 

To those who suffer wrong j 
To help the poor and needy. 

And bid the weak be strong : 
To give them songs for sighing. 

Their darkness turn to light, 
Whose souls, condemn'd and dying. 

Were precious in His sight. 

He shall come down like showers 

Upon the fruitful earth, 
And love, joy, hope, like flowers, 

Spring in His path to birth ; 
Before Him, on the mountains, 

Shall peace, the herald, go, 
And righteousness, in fountains, 

F'rom hill to valley flow. 

Arabia's desert-ranger 

To Him shall bow the knee ; 
The Ethiopian stranger 

His gloiy come to see : 

90 The Book of Praise. 

With offerings of devotion 

Ships from the Isles shall meet, 

To pour the wealth of ocean 
In tribute at His feet. 

Kings shall fall down before Him, 
And gold and incense bring ; 

All nations shall adore Him, 
His praise all people sing ; 

For He shall have dominion 
O'er river, sea, and shore ; 

Far as the eagle's pinion, 

For Him shall prayer unceasing. 

And daily vov/s ascend, 
His kingdom still increasing, 

A kingdom without end : 
The mountain-dews shall nourish 

A seed, in weakness sown, 
Whose fruit shall spread and flourish, 

And shake like Lebanon. 

O'er every foe victorious 

He on His throne shall rest, 
From age to age more glorious, 

All blessing and all-blest : 
The tide of time shall never 

His covenant remove ; 
His Name shall stand for ever. 

That Name to us is Love. 

James Moii fgomcry. 1822 

Christ 's Kingdom and Judgment. 9 1 


Behold ! the Mountain of the Lord 

In latter days shall rise 
On mountain tops, above the hills, 

And draw the wondering eyes. 

To this the joyful nations round, 
All tribes and tongues shall flow ; 

Up to the hill of God, they'll say, 
And to His house well go. 

The beam that shines from Zion hill 

Shall lighten every land ; 
The King who reigns in Salem's towers 

Shall all the world command. 

No strife shall vex Messiah's reign, 

Or mar the peaceful years ; 
To ploughshares men shall beat their swords, 

To pruning-hooks their spears. 

No longer hosts encountering hosts 

Their millions slain deplore ; 
They hang the trumpet in the hall, 

And study war no more. 

Come, then ! O, come, from every land, 

To worship at His shrine ; 
And, walking in the Light of God, 

With holy beauties shine. 

Michael Bruee. 1 768. 

92 The Book of P7'aise. 


Psalm LXXII. 

Jesus shall reign where'er the snn 
Does his successive journeys run ; 
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, 
Till moons shall wax and wane no more. 

For Him shall endless prayer be made, 
And praises throng to crown His Head ; 
His Name, like sweet perfume, shall rise 
With every morning sacrifice. 

People and realms of every tongue 
Dwell on His love with sweetest song, 
And infant voices shall proclaim 
Their early blessings on His Name. 

Blessings abound where'er He reigns ; 
The prisoner leaps to lose his chains ; 
The weary find eternal rest, 
And all the sons of want are blest. 

Where He displays His healing power, 
Death and the curse are known no more ; 
In Him the tribes of Adam boast 
More blessings than their father lost. 

Let every creature rise, and bring 
Peculiar honours to our King ; 
Angels descend with songs again. 
And earth repeat the long Amen ! 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 

Christ'' s Kingdom and Judgment. 93 


Psalm LXXII. 

Great God, Whose universal sway 
The known and unknown worlds obey, 
Now give the kingdom to Thy Son, 
Extend His power, exalt His throne. 

As rain on meadows newly mown, 
So shall He send His influence do\\ n ; 
His grace on fainting souls distils 
Like heavenly dew on thirsty hills. 

The heathen lands, that lie beneath 
The shade of overspreading death, 
Revive at His first dawning light, 
And deserts blossom at the sight. 

The saints shall flourish in His days, 
Dress'd in the robes of joy and praise ; 
Peace, like a river, from His Throne 
Shall flow to nations yet unknown. 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 


From Greenland's icy mountains, 

From India's coral strand, 
Where Afric's sunny fountains 

Roll down their golden sand, 
From many an ancient river, 

From many a palmy plain, 
They call us to deliver 

Their land from error's chain. 

94 The Book of Praise. 

What though the spicy breezes 

Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle ; 
Though every prospect pleases. 

And only man is vile ; 
In vain with lavish kindness 

The gifts of God are strown ; 
The heathen in his blindness 

Bows down to vrood and stone. 

Can we, whose souls are lighted 

With v.'isdom from on high, 
Can we to men benighted 

The lamp of life deny ? 
Salvation 1 O salvation ! 

The joyful sound proclaim, 
Till each remotest nation 

Has learnt Messiah's Name. 

Waft, waft, ye winds, His story, 

And you, ye waters, roll, 
Till like a sea of glory 

It spreads from pole to pole ; 
Till o'er our ransomed nature 

The Lamb for sinners slain, 
Redeemer, King, Creator, 

In bliss returns to reign. 

Bishop Begin aid Hebcr, 1823. 


On the mountain's top appearing, 
Lo ! the sacred herald stanSs, 

Welcome news to Zion bearing, 

Zion long in hostile lands ; 

Mourning captive ! 

Cod Himself will loose thy bands. 

Chris fs Kingdom and yudgment. 95 

Has thy night been long and mournful? 

Have thy friends unfai'.hful proved ? 
Have thy foes been proud and scornful, 

By thy sighs and tears unmoved ? 
Cease thy mourning ! 
Zion still is well beloved ! 

God, thy God, will now restore thee ; 

He Himself appears thy friend ; 
All thy foes shall flee before thee ; 

Here their boasts and triumphs end : 
Great deliverance 
Zion's King vouchsafes to send I 

Enemies no more shall trouble ; 

All thy vvTongs shall be redress'd ; 
For thy shame thou shalt have double, 
In thy Maker's favour bless'd ; 
AH thy conflicts 
End in everlasting rest ! 

Thomas Kelly. 1S04 


O house of Jacob, come, 

And walk with us in light : 

No more bewildered roam 

Like wanderers in the night ; 
The Hope of Israel calls you near. 
And Abraham's Shield, and Isaac's Fear. 

O thou by tempests toss'd, 

Reviled, distress'd, trod down, 

In every region cross'd, 

With grief familiar grown, 
Scattered and abject, peel'd, forlorn. 
Thy name a taunt, thyself a scorn ; 

96 The Book of Praise. 

Though thou art fill'd, alas ! 
And drunk with misery, 
That cup begins to pass 
To them that hated thee : 
But know, we honour Israel's name, 
Our God and Abraham's is the same. 

Rise, Jacob, from thy woes, 

And thy ^lessiah see ; 

He, Who thy fathers chose, 

Has not forgotten thee : 
At His command, we bid you come ; 
Her Israel Zion welcomes home. 

William Hum, 1 8 1 3 . 


The Lord of Might from Sinai's brow 
Gave forth His voice of thunder; 

And Israel lay on earth below, 
Outstretch'd in fear and wonder : 

Beneath His feet was pitchy night, 

And at His left hand and His right 
The rocks were rent asunder. 

The Lord of Love on Calvary, 
A meek and suffering stranger, 

Upraised to heaven His languid eye 
In nature's hour of danger ; 

For us He bore the weight of woe, 

For us He gave His blood to flow, 
And met His Father's angler. 

Christ's Ki7igdoin and Judgfnent, 97 

The Lord of Love, the Lord of Might, 

The King of all created, 
Shall back return to claim His right 

On clouds of glory seated ; 
With trumpet-sound, and angel-song, 
And hallelujahs loud and long. 

O'er death and hell defeated. 

Bishop Reginald Hcber. 1827. 


See, the ransomed millions stand, 
Palms of conquest in their hand ; 
This before the Throne their strain ; 
" Hell is vanquish'd ; death is slain ; 
" Blessing, honour, glory, might, 
" Are the Conqueror's native right ; 
" Thrones and powers before Him fall ; 
" Lamb of God, and Lord of all ! " 

Hasten, Lord ! the promised hour ; 
Come in glory and in power ; 
Still Thy foes are unsubdued ; 
Nature sighs to be renewed : 
Time has nearly reach'd its sum. 
All things with Thy Bride say. Come ; 
Jesus, whom all worlds adore. 
Come, and reign for evermore ! 

J OS i ah Conder. 1837— 1856. 


Thou Judge of quick and dead. 
Before whose bar severe 
With holy joy, or guilty dread, 
We all shall soon appear ; 

y8 The Book of Praise, 

Our cautioned souls prepare 
For that tremendous Day, 
And fill us now with watchful care, 
And stir us up to pray. 

To pray, and wait the hour, 

The awful hour unknown. 
When, robed in majesty and power. 

Thou shalt from Heaven come down, 

The immortal Son of Man, 

To judge the human race. 
With all Thy Father's dazzling train, 

With all Thy glorious grace. 

To damp our earthly joys, 
To increase our gracious fears. 

For ever let the Archangel's voice 
Be sounding in our ears ; 
The solemn midnight cry, 
" Ye Dead, the Judge is come ! 

"Arise, and meet Him in the sky, 
" And meet your instant doom !" 

O may we thus be found. 

Obedient to His word, 
Attentive to the trumpet's sound, 

And looking for our Lord : 

O may we thus insure 

Our lot among the blest, 
And watch a moment, to secure 

An everlasting rest ! 

Charles Wesley. 1749. 

Christ V Kingdom and Judgvient, 99 


Lo ! He comes, with clouds descending, 

Once for favoured sinners slain : 
Thousand thousand saints attending 

Swell the triumph of His train : 
Hallelujah ! 

God appears, on earth to reign ! 

Every eye shall now behold Him, 

Robed in dreadful majesty ; 
Those who set at nought and sold Him, 

Pierced, and nailed Him to the Tree, 
Deeply wailing, 

Shall the true Messiah see. 

Every island, sea, and mountain. 
Heaven and earth shall flee away ; 

All who hate Him must, confounded, 
Hear the trump proclaim the day ; 

Come to judgment ! 
Come to judgment, come away ! 

Now Redemption, long expected, 

See in solemn pomp appear ! 
All His saints, by man rejected, 

Now shall meet Him in the air ; 
Hallelujah ! 

See the day of God appear ! 

Answer Thine own Bride and Spirit ; 

Hasten, Lord, the general doom ; 
The new Heaven and earth t' inhcri: 
Take Thy pining exiles home : 

All creation 
Travails, groans, and bids Thee come ! 
H 2 

loo The Book of Praise. 

Yea, Amen ! let all adore Thee, 

High on Thine eternal throne : 
Saviour, take the power and glory ; 
Claim the kingdom for Thine own : 

O, come quickly, 
Everlasting God, come down ! 

ya?-iation by Martin Madan. 1760. 
From Charles Wesley. 1758. 
Afid John Cennick. 1752. 


Lo ! He with clouds descending ! 

Hark ! the trump of God is blown, 
And th' Archangel's voice attending 

Makes the high procession known : 
Sons of Adam ! 
Rise, and stand before your God ! 

Crowns and sceptres fall before Him, 
Kings and conquerors own His sway ; 

Haughtiest monarchs now adore Him, 
While they see His lightnings play : 
How triumphant 

Is the world's Redeemer now ! 

Hear His voice, as mighty thunder 

Sounding in eternal roar. 
While its echo rends in sunder 

Rocks and mountains, sea and shore *. 
Hark ! His accents 
Through th' unfathomed deep resound ! 

" Come, Lord Jesus ! O come quickly !" 

Oft has prayed the mourning Bride : 
" Lo !" He answers, " I come quickly !" 

Christ V Kingdom and yiidgment. 

Who Thy coming may abide ? 
All who loved Him, 
All who long'd to see His day. 

" Come," He saith, " ye heirs of glory ; 

'* Come, ye purchase of my blood ; 
" Claim the Kingdom now before you, 

" Rise, and fill the mount of God, 
*' Fix'd for ever 
"Where the Lamb on Sion stands." 

See ! ten thousand burning seraphs 
From their thrones as lightnings fly ; 

" Take,' they cry, " your seats above us, 
" Nearest Him that rules the sky !" 
Patient sufferers. 

How rewarded are ye now ! 

Now their trials all are ended : 
Now the dubious warfare's o'er ; 

Joy no more with sorrow blended, 
They shall sigh and weep no more ; 
God for ever 

Wipes the tear from every eye. 

Through His passion all victorious 
Now they drink immortal wine ; 

In Emmanuel's likeness glorious 
As the firmament they shine ; 
Shine for ever, 

With the bright and morning Star. 

Shout aloud, ye ethereal choirs ! 

Triumph in Jehovah's praiise ! 
Kindle all your heavenly fires, 

All your palms of victoiy raise ! 
Shout His conquests. 
Shout salvation to the Lamb ! 


102 The Book of Praise. 

In full triumph see them marching 
Through the gates of massy light, 

While the City walls are sparkling 
With meridian glory bright ; 
O how lovely 

Are the dwellings of the Lamb ! 

Hosts angelic all adore Him 

Circling round His orient seat ; 
Elders cast their crowns before Him. 

Fall and worship at His feet ; 
O how holy 
And how reverend is Thy Name ! 

Hail, Thou Alpha and Omega ! 
First and Last, of all alone ! 
He that is, and was, and shall be, 
And beside whom there is none ! 
Take the Glory, 
Great Eternal Three m One ! 

Thomas Olii 'ers. [1757.] 


Dies ircB, dies ilia. 

Day of anger, that dread Day 
Shall the Sign in Heaven display, 
And the Earth in ashes lay. 

O what trembling shall appear, 
When His coming shall be near. 
Who shall all things strictly clear ! 

When the Trumpet shall command 
Through the tombs of every land 
All before the Throne to stand. 

Christ 's Kingdom and Judgment. 1 03 

Death shall shrink and Nature quake. 
When all creatures shall awake, 
Answer to tlieir God to make. 

See the Book divinely penn'd, 
In which all is found contain'd, 
Whence the world shall be arraign'd ! 

When the Judge is on His Throne, 
All that's hidden shall be shown, 
Nought unpubllsh'd or unknown ! 

What shall I before Kim say ? 
How shall I be safe that day, 
When the righteous scarcely may ? 

King of awful majesty, 
Saving sinners graciously. 
Fount of mercy, save Thou me ! 

Leave me not, my Saviour, one 
For whose soul Thy course was run. 
Lest I be that day undone. 

Thou didst toil my soul to gain ; 
Didst redeem me with Thy pain ; 
Be such labour not in vain ! 

Thou just Judge of wrath severe, 
C}rant my sins remission here. 
Ere Thy reckoning day appear. 

IMy transgressions grievous are ; 
Scarce look up for shame I dare ; 
Lord, Thy guilty suppliant spare ! 

I04 The Book of Praise. 

Thou didst heal the sinner's grief. 
And didst hear the dying thief : 
Even I may hope rehef. 

All unworthy is my prayer ; 
Make my soul Thy mercy's care, 
And from fire eternal spare ! 

Place me with Thy sheep, that band 

Who shall separated stand 

From the goats, at Thy right hand ! 

When Thy voice in wrath shall say, 
Cursed ones, depart away ! 
Call me with the blest, I pray ! 

Lord, Thine ear in mercy bow ! 
Broken is my heart and low : 
Guard of my last end be Thou ! 

In that day, that mournful day, 
When to judgment wakes our clay, 
Show me mercy, Lord, I pray ! 

Hen ry Alford. 184: 


^^ And I believe in the Holy Ghost, the Lord and 
Giver of Lifej who proceedeth from the Fatlier 
and the Son; who with the Father and the Son 
together is worshipped and glorified j who spake 
by the Prophets^ 

When God of old came down from Heaven, 

In power and wrath He came ; 
Before His feet the clouds were riven, 

Half darkness and half flame. 

God the Holy Ghost. 105 

Around the trembling mountain's base 

The prostrate people lay ; 
A day of wrath, and not of grace ; 

A dim and dreadful day. 

But, when He came the second time, 

He came in power and love ; 
Softer than gale at morning prime, 

Hover'd His holy Dove. 

The fires, that rush'd on Sinai down 

In sudden torrents dread. 
Now gently light, a glorious crown, 

On every sainted head. 

Wing'd with the sinner's doom : 
But these, like tongues, o'er all the earth, 
Proclaiming life to come. 

And, as on Israel's awe-struck ear 

The voice exceeding loud, 
The trump, that angels quake to hear, 

Thrill'd from the deep dark cloud ; 

So, when the Spirit of our God 
Came down, His flock to find, 

A voice from heaven was heard abroad^ 
A rushing mighty wind. 

Nor doth the outward ear alone 

At that high warning start ; 
Conscience gives back th' appalling tone 

'Tis echoed in the heart. 

ic6 The Book of Praise. 

It fills the Church of God, it fills 
The sinful world around ; 

Only in stubborn hearts and wills 
No place for it is found. 

To other strains our souls are set ; 

A giddy whirl of sin 
Fills ear and brain, and will not let 

Heav'n's harmonies come in. 

Come, Lord I come Wisdom, LovC;, and Powei ; 

Open our ears to hear I 
Let us not miss the accepted hour ; 

Save, Lord, by lo\e or fear I 

JohnKeble, 1827 


Veni Creato?- Spirit us. 

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, 
And lighten with celestial fire ; 
Thou the Anointing Spirit art, 
Who dost Thy sevenfold gifts impart. 
Thy blessed unction from above 
Is comfort, life, and fire of love : 
Enable with perpetual light 
The dulness of our blinded sight ; 
Anoint and cheer our soiled face 
With the abundance of Thy grace ; 
Keep far our foes ; give peace at home ; 
Where Thou art guide, no ill can come ; 
Teach us to know the Father, Son, 
And Thee of Both, to be but One : 

God the Holy Ghost. i oy 

That, through the ages all along, 
This may be our endless song, 
" Praise to Thy Eternal merit, 
*' Father, Son, and Holy Spirit I '' 
Amen ! 
Aii07t. {Ordination Se7'vice). 1662 


Vcni Creator Spiritus. 

Holy Spirit, gently come, 
Raise us from our fallen state, 
Y\x Thy everlasting home 
In the hearts Thou didst create ! 

Gift of God most High ! 
Visit ever>' troubled breast : 
Light and Life and Love supply ; 
Give our spints perfect rest ! 

Heavenly Unction from above, 
Comforter of v/eary saints, 
Fountain, Life, and Fire of Love, 
Hear, and answer our complaints ! 

Thee we humbly pray, 
Finger of the Living God, 
Now Thy sevenfold grace display. 
Shed our Saviour's love abroad ! 

Now Thy cjuickening influence bring, 
On our spirits sweetly move ; 
Open every mouth to sing 
Jesus' everlasting love ! 
Lighten every heart ; 
Drive our enemies away ; 
Joy and peace to us impart ; 
Lead us in the heavenly way ! 

loS The Book of P raise. 

Take the things of Christ and show 
What our Lord for us hath done ; 
May we God the Father know 
Only in and through the Son : 

Nothing will we fear, 
Though to wilds and deserts driven, 
While we feel Thy Presence near, 
Witnessing our sins forgiven. 

Glory be to God alone, 
God, whose hand created all ! 
Glor>^ be to God the Son, 
W'ho redeem'd us from our fall ! 

To the Holy Ghost 
Equal praise and glory be, 
When the course of time is lost, 
Lost in wide eternity ! 

Willia7n Hammond. 1 745, 


Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, 
My sinful maladies remove ; 
Be Thou my Light, be Thou my Guide, 
O'er eveiy thought and step preside. 

The light of truth to me display, 
That I may know and choose my way ; 
Plant holy fear within mine heart. 
That I from God may ne'er depart. 

Conduct me safe, conduct me far 
From every sin and hurtful snare ; 
Lead me to God, my final Rest, 
In His enjoyment to be blest. 

God the Holy Ghost. 109 

Lead me to Christ, the Living Way, 
Nor let me from His pastures stray : 
Lead me to Heaven, the seat of bHss, 
Where pleasure in perfection is. 

Lead me to holiness, the road 
That I must take to dwell with God ; 
Lead to Thy Word, that rules must give, 
And sure directions how to live. 

Lead me to means of grace, where I 
May own my wants, and seek supply : 
Lead to Thyself, the Spring from whence 
To fetch all quickening influence. 

Thus I, conducted still by Thee, 
Of God a child beloved shall be, 
Here to His family pertain, 
Hereafter with Him ever reign, 

Simon Browne. 1720. 


Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, 
With all Thy quickening powers, 

Kindle a flame of sacred love 
In these cold hearts of ours. 

Look how we grovel here below, 
Fond of these trifling toys ; 

Our souls can neither fly nor go 
To reach eternal joys ! 

In vain we tune our formal songs, 
In vain we strive to rise ; 

Hosannas languish on our tongues. 
And our devotion dies. 

no TJie Book of Praise. 

Dear Lord, and shall we ever lie 

At this poor dying rate ? 
Our love so faint, so cold to Thee, 

And Thine to us so great ! 

Coine, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, 
With all Thy quickening powers ! 

Come, shed abroad a Saviour's love. 
And that shall kindle ours. 

Isaac Watts 1709. 


Come, Holy Spirit, come 
Let Thy bright beams arise. 
Dispel the darkness from our minds, 
And open all our eyes. 

Cheer our desponding hearts, 
Thou heavenly Paraclete ; 
Give us to lie, with humble hope 
At our Redeemer's feet. 

Revive our drooping faith. 
Our doubts and fears rem^ove^ 
And kindle in our breasts the flame 
Of never-dying love. 

Convince us of our sin. 
Then lead to Jesus' blood, 
And to our wondering view reveal 
The secret love of God. 

Show us that loving Man 
That rules the courts of bliss, 
The Lord of hosts, the Mighty God, 
The Eternal Prince cf Peace. 

God the Holy Ghost. 1 1 1 

'Tis Thine to cleanse the heart, 
To sanctify the soul, 
To pour fresh life in e\-ery part, 
And new-create the whole. 

Dwell therefore in our hearts, 
Our minds from bondage free ; 
Then we shall know, and praise, and love 
The Father, Son, and Thee ! 

yoscJ)h Hart. 1 759, 


Lord God the Holy Ghost, 

In this accepted hour, 
As on the day of Pentecost, 

Descend in all Thy power ! 

We meet with one accord 

In our appointed place, 
And wait the promise of our Lord, 

The Spirit of all grace. 

Like mighty rushing wind 

Upon the waves beneath. 
Move with one impulse every mind, 

One soul, one feeling breathe : 

The young, the old, inspire 

With wisdom from above, 
And give us hearts and tongues of i\\•^ 

To pray, and praise, and love. 

Spirit of Light, explore 
And chase our gloom away, 
With lustre shining more and more 
Unto the perfect day ! 

: 1 2 Tlie Book of Pi^aise. 

Spirit of Truth, be Thou 
In hfe and death our Guide ! 
Spirit of adoption, now 
May we be sanctified ! 

James Montgo7nery. 1819. 


O du allersuste Freiide. (Paul Gerhardt.) 

Holy Ghost, dispel our sadness, 
Pierce the clouds of sinful night ; 

Come, Thou source of sweetest gladness, 
Breathe Thy Life, and spread Thy Light ! 

Loving Spirit, God of Peace ! 

Great Distributor of grace ! 
Rest upon this congregation, 
Hear, O hear our supplication ! 

From that height which knovrs no measure 

As a gracious shower descend. 
Bringing down the richest treasure 

Men can wish, or God can send ! 
O Thou Glory, shining down 
From the Father and the Son, 

Grant us Thy illumination ! 

Rest upon this congregation ! 

Known to Thee are all recesses 
Of the earth and spreading skies ; 

Every sand the shore possesses 
Thy Omniscient Mind descries. 

Holy Fountain ! wash us clean 

Both from error and from sin ! 
Make us fly what Thou refusest, 
And delight in what Thou choosest ! 

God the Holy Ghost. 1 13 

Manifest Thy love for ever-; 

Fence us in on every side ; 
In distress be our reliever, 

Guard and teach, support and guide ! 
Let Thy kind effectual grace 
Turn our feet from evil ways ; 

Show Thyself our new Creator, 

And conform us to Thy Nature ! 

Be our Friend on each occasion, 

God ! omnipotent to save ! 
When we die, be our salvation, 

When we're buried, be our grave ! 
And, when from the grave we rise, 
Take us up above the skies, 

Seat us with Thy saints in glory, 

There for ever to adore Thee ! 

Variation by A 21 gust us M. Toplady. 1776. 
■" From John Christian Jacobi, 1725. 


Holy Spirit, in my breast 
Grant that lively Faith may rest. 
And subdue each rebel thought 
To believe what Thou hast taught. 

When around my sinking soul 
Gathering waves of sorrow roll, 
Spirit blest, the tempest still, 
And with Hope my bosom fill. 


114 The Book of Praise. 

Holy Spirit, from my mind 
Thought and wish and will unkind, 
Deed and word unkind remo^'c, 
And my bosom fill with love. 

Faith, and Hope, and Charity, 
Comforter, descend from Thee ; 
Thou the Anointing Spirit art, 
These Thy gifts to us impart, 

Till our faith be lost in sight, 
Hope be swallowed in delight, 
And love return to dwell with Thee, 
In the threefold Deity ! 

Bishop Richard Afajit. 1837. 


Full of weakness and of sin, 

We look to Thee for life : 
Lord, Thy gracious work begin. 

And calm the inward strife ! 

Though our hearts are prone to stray, 

Be Thou a constant Friend : 
Though we know not how to pray, 

Thy saving mercy send ! 

Let Thy Spirit, gracious Lord, 

Our souls with love inspire. 
Strength and confidence afford, 

And breathe celestial fire ! 

Teach us first to feel our need, 

Then all that need supply ; 
When we hunger, deign to teed, 

And hear us when we cry ! 

Cod the Holy Ghost. r 1 3 

When we cleave to earthly things, 

Send Thy reviving grace ; 
Raise our souls, and give them wings, 

To reach Thy holy place ! 

Will lam Hlley Bathurst. 1831 


There is a River, deep and broad, 

Its course no mortal knows ; 
It fills with joy the Church of God, 

And widens as it flows. 

Clearer than crystal is the stream. 

And bright with endless day ; 
The waves with every blessing teem, 

And life and health convey. 

Where'er they flow, contentions cease, 

And love and meekness reign ; 
The Lord Himself commands the peace, 

And foes conspire in vain. 

Along the shores, angelic bands 

Watch every moving wave ; 
With holy joy their breast expands. 

When men the waters crave. 

To them distressed souls repair, 

The Lord invites them nigh ; 
They leave their cares and sorrows there. 

They drink, and never die. 

Flow on, sweet Stream, more largely flow, 

The earth with glory fill ; 
Plow on, till all the Saviour know, 
And all obey His will. 

Williatn Huni. iSn. 
I 2 

1 1 6 The Book of P) mse. 


There is a Stream, which issues forth 

From God's eternal Throne, 
And from the Lamb, a hving stream 

Clear as the crystal stone. 

The stream doth water Paradise ; 

It makes the angels sing ; 
One cordial drop revives my heart ; 

Hence all my joys do spring. 

Such joys as are unspeakable, 

And full of glory too ; 
Such hidden manna, hidden pearls, 

As worldlings do not know. 

Eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, 

From fancy 'tis concealed. 
What Thou, Lord, hast laid up for Thine, 

And hast to me revealed. 

I see Thy face, I hear Thy voice, 

I taste Thy sweetest love : 
My soul doth leap : but O for wings, 

The wings of Noah's dove ! 

Then should I flee far hence away, 

Leaving this world of sin ! 
Then should my Lord put forth His hand, 

And kindly take me in ! 

Then should my soul with angels feast 

On joys that always last ! 
Blest be my God, the God of joy, 

Who gives me here a taste. 

yoh?i Mason. 1683 

God the Holy Ghost. 1 17 


Ye sons of earth, prepare the plough, 

Break up your fallow ground ; 
The Sower is gone forth to sow, 

And scatter blessings round. 

The seed that finds a stony soil 

Shoots forth a hasty blade ; 
But ill repays the sower's toil, 

Soon wither' d, scorch'd, and dead. 

The thorny ground is sure to balk 

AlUiopes of harvest there ; 
We find a tall and sickly stalk, 

But not the fruitful ear. 

The beaten path and highway side 

Receive the trust in vain ; 
The watchful birds the spoil divide, 

And pick up all the grain. 

But when the Lord of grace and power 

Has bless'd the happy field, 
How plenteous is the golden store 

The deep-wrought furrows yield ! 

Father of mercies ! we have need 

Of Thy preparing grace : 
Let the same Hand, that gives the seed. 

Provide a fruitful place ! 

IVtlliavi Cowper. 1779. 

1 1 8 The Book of Praise. 


Psalm XIX. 

Behold, the morning sun 
Begins his glorious way ; 
His beams through all the nations run, 
And life and light convey. 

But where the gospel comes, 
It spreads diviner light, 
It calls dead sinners from their tombs, 
And gives the blind their sight. 

How perfect is Thy word ! 
And all Thy judgments just ! 
For ever sure Thy promise, Lord ; 
And men securely trust. 

While with my heart and tongue 
I spread Thy praise abroad, 
Accept the worship and the song, 
iVly Saviour and my God ! 

Isaac Waits 17 19. 


Psalm XIX. 

Tlie starry firmament on high, 
And all the glories of the sky, 
Yet shine not to Thy praise, O Lord, 
So brightly as Thy written word ; 
The hopes that holy word supplies, 
Its truths divine, and precepts wise. 
In each a heavenly beam I see, 
And every beam conducts to Thee. 

God the Holy Ghost. 1 1 9 

When, taught by painful proof to know 
That all is vanity below, 
The sinner roams from comfort far. 
And looks in vain for sun or star ; 
Soft gleaming then those lights divine 
Through all the cheerless darkness shine, 
And sweetly to the ravish'd eye 
?^isclose the Day-spring from on higli. 

The heart, in sensual fetters bound, 
And barren as the wintr>' ground, 
Confesses, Lord, Thy quickening ray ; 
Thy word can charm the spell away ; 
With genial influence can beguile 
The frozen wilderness to smile • 
Bid living waters o'er it flov.-, 
And all be paradise below. 

Almighty Lord, the sun shall fail, 
The moon forget her nightly talc. 
And deepest silence hush on high 
The radiant chorus of the sky : 
But, fix'd for everlasting years. 
Unmoved amid the wreck of sphcrco. 
Thy word shall shine in cloudless day, 
When heaven and earth have pass'd away 

Sir Roh'^'-t Grant. [1839. 

120 The Book of Praise. 



*' And I believe one Catholic and Apostolic Chttrch.'' 

Jerusalem, my happy home, 

When shall I come to thee ? 
When shall my sorrows have an end, 

Thy joys when shall I see ? 

happy harbour of the saints ! 

O sweet and pleasant soil ! 
In thee no sorrow may be found, 

No grief, no care, no toil. 

There lust and lucre cannot dwell, 

There envy bears no sway ; 
There is no hunger, heat, nor cold, 

But pleasure every way. 

Thy walls are made of precious stones, 
Thy bulwarks diamonds square ; 

Thy gates are of right orient pearl, 
Exceeding rich and rare. 

Thy turrets and thy pinnacles 

With carbuncles do shine ; 
Thy very streets are paved with gold, 

Surpassing clear and fine. 

Ah, my sweet home, Jerusalem, 

Would God I were in thee ! 
Would God my woes were at an end, • 

Thy joys that I might see ! 

The Holy Catholic Cfiiirch. 121 

Thy saints are crown'd with glory great ; 

They see God face to face ; 
They triumph still, they still rejoice, 

Most happy is their case. 

We that are here in banishment 

Continually do moan, 
We sigh, and sob, we weep, and wail, 

Perpetually we groan. 

Our sweet is mix'd with bitter gall, 

Our pleasure is but pain. 
Our joys scarce last the looking on, 

Our sorrows still rem.ain. 

But there they live in such delight. 

Such pleasure and such play, 
As that to them a thousand years 

Doth seem as yesterday. 

Thy gardens and thy gallant walks 

Continually are green. 
There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers 

As nowhere else are seen. 

Quite through the streets, with silver sound. 

The flood of Life doth flow ; 
Upon whose banks on every side 

The wood of Life doth grow. 

There trees for evermore bear fruit, 

And evermore do spring ; 
There evermore the angels sit, 

And evermore do sing. 

123 The Book of Praise, 

Jerusalem, my happy home, 

Would God I were in thcc ! 
Would God my woes were at an end, 

Thy joys that I might see ! 

Anon.''F.B.P:' [1616.] 


Sweet place, sweet place alone ! 
The court of God most High, 
The Heaven of Heavens, the Tli! 
Of spotless majesty ! 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

The stranger homeward bends, 
And sigheth for his rest : 
Heaven is my home, my friends 
Lodge there in Abraham's breast 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
I\Iy God, v,ith Thee, 
To see Thy i?^Q(i'^. 

Earth's but a sorry tent 
Pitch'd for a few frail days, 
A short-leas'd tenement ; 
Heaven's still my song, my praise 
O happy place I 
When shall I be, 
]\Iy God, Avith Thee, 
To see Thv face ? 

The Holy Catholic Church. 123 

No tears from any eyes 
Drop in that holy quire ; 
But Death itself there dies, 
And sighs themselves expire. 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

There should temptations cease, 
My frailties there should end ; 
There should I rest in peace 
In the arms of my best Friend. 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

Jerusalem on high 
My song and City is. 
My home whene'er I die. 
The centre of my bliss : 
O happy place I 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thv face .'' 

Tiiy walls, sweet city, thine, 
With pearls are garnished ; 
Thy gates with praises shine. 
Thy streets with gold are spread 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be. 
My God, with Thee, 
To sec Thv face ? 

124 l'^^- Book of Praise, 

No sun by day shines there, 
Nor moon by silent night ; 
Oh no ! these needless are ; 
The Lamb's the city's Light : 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

There dwells my Lord, my King, 
Judged here unfit to live ; 
There angels to Him sing, 
And lowly homage give : 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be. 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

The Patriarchs of old 
There from their travels cease ; 
The Prophets there behold 
Their long'd-for Prince of Peace \ 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

The Lamb's Apostles there 
I might with joy behold, 
The Harpers I might hear 
Harping on harps of gold ; 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

The Holy Catholic CJmrch. 125 

The bleeding Martyrs, they 
Within those courts are found, 
Clothed in pure array, 
Their scars with glory crown'd : 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be. 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

Ah me ! Ah me ! that I 
In Kedar's tents here stay ! 
No place like this on high ! 
Thither, Lord ! guide my way ! 
O happy place ! 
When shall I be, 
My God, with Thee, 
To see Thy face ? 

SajHuel Grossman. 1664. 


Jerusalem, my happy home. 

Name ever dear to me ! 
When shall my labours have an end. 

In joy and peace, and thee ? 

When shall these eyes thy heaven-built walls, 

And pearly gates behold ? 
Thy bulwarks with salvation strong. 

And streets of shining gold ? 

There happier bowers than Eden's bloom. 

Nor sin nor sorrow know : 
Rlest seats ! through rude and stormy scenes 

I onward press to you. 

26 The Book of Praise. 

Why should I shrink from pain and woe, 

Or feel at death dismay ? 
I've Canaan's goodly land in view, 

And realms of endless day. 

Apostles, martyrs, prophets, there 

Around my Saviour stand ; 
And soon my friends in Christ below 

Will join the glorious band. 

Jerusalem, my happy home ! 

My soul still pants for thee : 
Then shall my labours have an end, 

When I thy joys shall see. 

Anon. [1801.] 


Rev. VII. 13—17. 

What are these in bright array, 

This innumerable throng. 
Round the altar, night and day. 

Hymning one triumphant song ? 
" W^orthy is the Lamb, once slain, 

Blessing, honour, glory, power, 
Wisdom, riches, to obtain. 

New dominion every hour." 

These through fiery trials trod ; 

These from great affliction came % 
Now, before the Throne of God, 

Seal'd with His Almighty Name, 
Clad in raiment pure and white, 

Victor-palms in every hand, 
Through their dear Redeemer's might, 

More than conquerors they stand. 

The Holy Catholic Chinxh. 127 

Hunger, thirst, disease unknown, 

On immortal fruits they feed ; 
Them the Lamb amidst the Throne 

Shall to living fountains lead : 
Joy and gladness banish sighs ; 

Perfect love dispels all fear ; 
And for ever from their eyes 

God shall wipe away the tear. 

James Moiitgonioy. 1819. 


Rev. VII. 13—17. 

Exalted high at God's right hand, 
Nearer the throne than cherubs stand, 
With glory crown'd, in white array, 
My wondering soul says, who are they ? 

These are the saints beloved of God, 
Wash'd are their robes in Jesus' blood, 
More spotless than the purest white 
They shine in uncreated light. 

Brighter than angels, lo ! they shine, 
Their glories great, and all divine : 
Tell me their origin, and say, 
Their order what, and whence came they ? 

Through tribulation great they came, 
They bore the cross, and scorn'd the shame : 
Within the Living Temple blest, 
In God they dwell, and on Him rest. 

And does the cross thus prove their gain ? 
And shall they thus for ever reign. 
Seated on sapphire thrones, to praise 
The wonders of Redeeming grace 'i 

128 The Book of Praise. 

Hunger they ne'er shall feel again, 
Nor burning thirst shall they sustain ; 
To wells of living water led, 
By God the Lamb for ever fed. 

Unknown to mortal ears, they sing 
The secret glories of their King : 
Tell me the subject of their lays, 
And whence their loud exalted praise ? 

Jesus, the Saviour, is their theme ; 
They sing the \\TDnders of His Name ; 
To Him ascribing power and grace. 
Dominion, and eternal praise. 

Amen ! they cry, to Him alone, 
Who dares to fill His Father's throne ; 
They give Him glory, and again 
Repeat His praise, and say. Amen ! 

Rowland Hill. 1783. 


O happy saints, who dwell in light. 
And walk with Jesus, clothed in white ; 
Safe landed on that peaceful shore, 
Where pilgrims meet to part no more. 

Released from sin, and toil, and grief.- 
Death was their gate to endless life ; 
An open'd cage, to let them fly 
And build their happy nest on high. 

And now they range the heavenly plains, 
And sing their hymns in melting strains ; 
And now their souls begin to prove 
The heights and depths of Jesus' love. 

The Holy Catholic Omrch. 129 

He cheers them with eternal smile ; 
They sing hosannas all the while ; 
Or, overwhelm'd with rapture sweet, 
Sink down adoring at His feet. 

Ah ! Lord ! with tardy steps I creep, 
And sometimes sing, and sometimes weep ; 
Yet strip me of this house of clay, 
And I will sing as loud as they. 

John Berridge. 1785. 


Rev. VII. 13—17. 

How bright these glorious spirits shine : 
Whence all their white array ? 

How came they to the blissful seats 
Of everlasting day ? 

Lo ! these are they from sufferings great 
Who came to realms of light ; 

And in the blood of Christ have wash'd 
Those robes which shine so bright. 

Now with triumphal palms they stand 

Before the throne on high, 
And serve the (iod they love, amidst 

The glories of the sky. 

His presence fills each heart with joy; 

Tunes every mouth to sing ; 
By day, by night, the sacred courts 

With glad hosannas ring. 

130 TJie Book of Praise, 

Hunger and thirst are felt no more, 

Nor suns with scorching ray ; 
God is their Sun, whose cheering beams 

Diffuse eternal day. 

The Lamb, which dwells amidst the throne, 

Shall o'er them still preside. 
Feed them with nourishment divine. 

And all their footsteps guide. 

'Mong pastures green He'll lead His flock, 

Where living streams appear ; 
And God the Lord from every eye 
Shall wipe off every tear. 

William Cameron. 1770. 
{Variation from Isaac Watts. 1709.) 


Rev. VII. i3-~i7. 

Palms of glory, raiment bright, 
Crowns that never fade away, 
Gird and deck the saints in light, 
Priests, and kings, and conquerors they. 

Yet the conquerors bring their palms 
To the Lamb amidst the throne, 
And proclaim in joyful psalms 
Victory through His cross alone. 

Kings for harps their crowns resign. 
Crying, as they strike the chords, 
" Take the kingdom, it is Thine, 
King of kings, and Lord of lords ! " 

The Holy Catholic Church. 131 

Round the altar priests confess, 
If their robes are white as snow, 
'Twas the Saviour's righteousness, 
And His blood, that made them so. 

Who vv^ere these ? on earth they dwelt ; 
Sinners once, of Adam's race ; 
Guilt, and fear, and suffering felt ; 
But were saved by sovereign grace. 

They were mortal, too, like us : 
Ah ! when we, like them, must die. 
May our souls, translated thus. 
Triumph, reign, and shine on high ! 

James Montgomery. [1853.] 



Glorious things of thee are spoken, 

Zion, city of our God ; 
He, whose word cannot be broken, 

Form'd thee for His own abode: 
On the Rock of Ages founded. 

What can shake thy sure repose ? 
With salvation's walls surrounded, 

Thou mayst smile at all thy foes. 

See, the streams of living waters. 

Springing from eternal love. 
Well supply thy sons and daughters. 

And all fear of want remove : 
Who can faint, while such a river 

Ever flows their thirst to assuage ; 
Grace, which, like the Lord the givcr^ 

Never fails from age to age ? 
K 2 

133 The Book of Praise. 

Round each habitation hovering, 

See the cloud and fire appear, 
For a glory and a covering ; 

Showing that the Lord is near. 
Thus deriving from their banner 

Light by night, and shade by day, 
Safe they feed upon the manna. 

Which He gives them when they pray. 

Saviour, if of Zion's city 

I, through grace, a member am, 
Let the world deride or pity, 

I will glory in Thy Name : 
Fading is the worldling's pleasure, 

All his boasted pomp and show ; 
Solid joys and lasting treasure 

None but Zion s children know. 

John Newton. 1779. 


The Son of God goes forth to war, 

A kingly crown to gain ; 
His blood-red banner streams afar : 

Who follows in His train .^ 

Who best can drink His cup of woe, 

Triumphant over pain. 
Who patient bears His cross below. 

He follows in his train. 

The martyr, first, whose eagle eye 
Could pierce beyond the grave ; 

Who saw his Master in the sky, 
And call'd on Him to save. 

The Holy Catholic Omrch. 133 

Like Him, with pardon on his tongue, 

In midst of mortal pain, 
He prayed for them that did the wrong : 

Who follows in his train ? 

A glorious band, the chosen few, 

On whom the Spirit came ; 
Twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew, 

And mock'd the cross and flame. 

They met the tyrant's brandish'd steel. 

The lion's gory mane ; 
They bow'd their necks the death to feel : 

Who follows in their train ? 

A noble army, men and boys, 

The matron and the maid, 
Around the Saviour's throne rejoice, 

In robes of light arrayed. 

They climb'd the steep ascent of heaven, 

Through peril, toil, and pain ; 
O God ! to us may grace be given 

To follow in their train ! 

Bishop Reginald Heber. 1827. 


Ye servants of the Lord, 
Each in his office wait, 
Observant of His heavenly word. 
And watchful at His gate. 

Let all your lamps be bright. 
And trim the golden flame ; 
Gird up your loins, as in His sight, 
For awful is His name. 

IJ4 The Book of Praise.. 

Watch ; 'tis your Lord's command ; 
And, while we speak, He's near ; 
Mark the first signal of His hand, 
And ready all appear. 

O happy servant he, 
In such a posture found ! 
He shall his Lord with rapture see, 
And be with honour crown'd. 

Christ shall the banquet spread 
With His own Royal hand ; 
And raise that favourite servant's head 
Amid the angelic band, 

Philip Doddridge. 1 755. 


A soldier's course, from battles won 

To new-commencing strife ; 
A pilgrim's, restless as the sun ; 

Behold the Christian's life ! 

Prepared the trumpet's call to greet. 

Soldier of Jesus, stand ! 
Pilgrim of Christ, with ready feet 

Await thy Lord's command. 

The hosts of Satan pant for spoil ; 

How can thy warfare close ? 
Lonely, thou tread' st a foreign soil ; 

How canst thou hope repose ? 

Seek, soldier ! pilgrim ! seek thine home, 

Reveal'd in sacred lore ; 
The land, whence pilgrims never roam. 

Where soldiers war no more : 

The Holy Catholic Church, 135 

Where grief shall never wound, nor death 

Disturb the Saviour's reign ; 
Nor sin, with pestilential breath, 

His holy realm profane : 

The land, where, (suns and moons unknown, 

And night's alternate sway,) 
Jehovah's ever-burning throne 

Upholds unbroken day : 

The land, (for Heaven its bliss unseen 

Bids earthly types suggest,) 
Where healing leaves and fadeless green 

Where founts of life their treasures yield 

In streams that never cease ; 
Where everlasting mountains shield 

Vales of eternal peace : 

Where they who meet shall never part ; 

Where grace achieves its plan ; 
And God, uniting every heart, 

Dwells face to face with man. 

Thojnas Gisborjie, 1803. 


Hark, 'tis a martial sound ! 

To arms, ye saints, to arms ! 

Your foes are gathering round. 

And peace has lost its charms : 
Prepare the helmet, sword, and shield \ 
The trumpet calls you to the field. 

No common foes appear 
To dare you to the fight, 
But such as own no fear 
And glory in their might : 

[36 The Book of Praise. 

The Powers of Darkness are at hand ; 
Resist, or bow to their command. 

An arm of flesh must fail 

In such a strife as this ; 

He only can prevail 

Whose arm immortal is : 
'Tis Heaven itself the strength must yield, 
And weapons fit for such a field. 

And Heaven supplies them too : 

The Lord, who never faints, 

Is greater than the foe, 

And He is with His saints : 
Thus arm'd, they venture to the fight ; 
Thus arm'd, they put their foes to flight. 

And, wdien the conflict's past, 

On yonder peaceful shore 

They shall repose at last, 

And see their foes no more ; 
The fruits of victoiy enjoy. 
And never more their arms employ. 

Thomas Kelly. 1809 

O Israel, to thy tents repair : 

Why thus secure on hostile ground ? 
Thy King commands thee to beware, 

For many foes thy camp surround. 

The trumpet gives a martial strain : 
O Israel, gird thee for the fixght ! 

Arise, the combat to maintain. 
And put thine enemies to flight J 

The Holy Catholic Church. 137 

Thou shouldst not sleep, as others do ; 

Awake ; be vigilant ; be brave ! 
The coward, and the sluggard too, 

Must wear the fetters of the slave. 

A nobler lot is cast for thee ; 

A kingdom waits thee in the skies : 
With such a hope, shall Israel flee, 

Or yield, through weariness, the prize ? 

No ! let a careless world repose 
And slumber on through life's short day, 

While Israel to the conflict goes. 
And bears the glorious prize away ! 

Thomas Kelly. 1806 


Much in sorrow, oft in woe, 
Onward, Christians, onward go ; 
Fight the fight, and, worn with strife, 
Steep with tears the Bread of Life. 

Onward, Christians, omvard go ; 
Join the war, and face the foe ; 
Faint not ! much doth yet remain ; 
Dreary is the long campaign. 

Shrink not. Christians I will ye yield ? 
Will ye quit the painful field .^ 
Will ye flee in danger's hour ? 
Know ye not your Captain's power ? 

Let your drooping hearts be glad ; 
March, in heavenly armour clad ; 
Fight, nor think the battle long ; 
Victory soon shall tunc your song. 

1 3 8 The Book of Praise. 

Let not sorrow dim your eye, 
Soon shall every tear be dry; 
Let not woe your course impede ; 
Great your strength, if great your need. 

Onward then to battle move ; 
More than conquerors ye shall prove ; 
Though opposed by many a foe, 
Christian soldiers, onward go. 

Frag7nent by Henry Kirke White. 1806. 
Completed by Fanny Fuller Maitland. 1827. 


Come, we that love the Lord, 
And let our joys be known ; 
Join in a song with sweet accord, 
And thus surround the throne. 

Let those refuse to sing 
That never knew our God ; 
But favourites of the Heavenly King 
May speak their joys abroad. 

The men of grace have found 
Glory begun below ; 
Celestial fruits on earthly ground 
From faith and hope may grow. 

The hill of Zion yields 
A thousand sacred sweets, 
Before we reach the heavenly fields, 
Or walk the golden streets. 

Then let our songs abound; 
And every tear be dry : 
We're marching through Emmanuel's ground 
To fairer worlds on high. 

Isaac Watts. 170Q. 

The Holy Catholic Church. 139 


From Egypt lately come, 
Where death and darkness reign, 
We seek our new, our better home, 
Where we our rest shall gain. 
Hallelujah ! 
We are on our way to God ! 

To Canaan's sacred bound 
We haste with songs of joy, 
Where peace and liberty are found, 
And sweets that never cloy. 
Hallelujah ! 
We are on our v/ay to God ! 

There sin and sorrow cease. 
And every conflict's o'er ; 
There we shall dwell in endless peace. 
And never hunger more : 
Hallelujah ! 
We are on our way to God ! 

There in celestial strains 
Enraptured myriads sing ; 
There love in every bosom reigns, 
For God Himself is King. 
Hallelujah ! 
We are on our way to GoJ ! 

We soon shall join the throng, 
Their pleasures we shall share. 
And sing the everlasting song 
With all the ransom'd there. 
Hallelujah ! 
We are on our wav to God .' 

T40 The Book of Praise. 

How sweet the prospect is ! 
It cheers the pilgrim's breast ! 
We're journeying through the wilderness, 
But soon shall gain our rest ! 
We are on our way to God ! 

Thomas Kelly. 1812. 


When Israel, by Divine command, 

The pathless desert trod. 
They found, though 'twas a barren land, 

A sure resource in God. 

A cloudy pillar mark'd their road, 
And screen'd them from the heat ; 

From the hard rocks their v/ater flow'd, 
And manna was their meat. 

Like them, we have a rest in view, 

Secure from adverse powers ; 
Like them, we pass a desert too ; 

And Israel's God is ours. 

His Word a light before us spreads 

By which our path we see ; 
His Love, a banner o'er our heads, 

From harm preserves us free. 

Jesus, the Bread of Life, is given 

To be our daily food ; 
We drink a wondrous stream from Heaven, 

'Tis water, wine, and blood. 

Lord ! 'tis enough ! I ask no more, 

These blessings are Divine ; 
I envy not the worldling's store, 

If Christ and Heaven are mine. 

John Newton. 1779. 

The Holy Catholic Church. 141 


Children of the Heavenly King, 
As ye journey, sweetly sing ; 
Sing your Saviour's worthy praise, 
Glorious in His works and ways ! 

We are travelling home to God, 
In the way the Fathers trod ; 
They are happy now ; and we 
Soon their happiness shall see. 

O ye banish'd seed, be glad ! 
Christ our Advocate is made ; 
Us to save, our flesh assumes ; 
Brother to our souls becomes. 

Shout, ye little flock, and blest ! 
You on Jesus' Throne shall rest ; 
There your seat is now prepared, 
There your kingdom and reward. 

Lift your eyes, ye sons of Light ! 
Zion s city is in sight : 
There our endless home shall be, 
There our Lord we soon shall see. 

Fear not, brethren ; joyful stand 
On the borders of your land ; 
Jesus Christ, your Father s Son, 
Bids you undismayed go on. 

Lord ! obediently we go. 
Gladly leaving all below : 
Only Thou our Leader be, 
And we still will follow Thee ! 

142 The Book of Praise. 

Seal our love, our labours end ; 
Let us to Thy bliss ascend ; 
Let us to Thy kingdom come ; 
Lord ! we long to be at home. 

Jolm Cennkk. 1742. 


Awake, and sing the song 
Of Moses and the Lamb, 
Wake every heart and every tongue 
To praise the Saviour's Name. 

Sing of His dying love ; 
Sing of His rising power ; 
Sing how He intercedes above 
For those whose sins He bore. 

Sing, till we feel our hearts 
Ascending with our tongues ; 
Sing, till the love of sin departs, 
And grace inspires our songs. 

Sing on your heavenly way, 
Ye ransom'd sinners, sing ; 
Sing on, rejoicing every day 
In Christ the eternal King. 

Soon shall ye hear Him say. 
Ye blessed children, come ; 
Soon will He call you hence away, 
And take his wanderers home. 

Variation froui Williain Hat7tmo7id. 1745. 
By Martin Madan. 1760. 

The Holy Catholic Church. 143 


" Te lest a, mimdi CondztorP 

Thou, great Creator, art possest, 
And Thou alone, of endless rest ; 
To angels only it belongs 
To lift to Thee their ceaseless songs. 

But we must toil and toil again 
With ceaseless woe and endless pain ; 
How then can we, in exile drear. 
Lift the glad song of glory here ! 

Oh Thou, who wilt forgiving be 
To all who truly turn to Thee, 
Grant us to mourn the heavy cause 
Of all our woe, Thy broken laws : 

Then to such salutary grief 
Let Faith and Hope bring due relief; 
And we, too, soon shall be possest 
Of ceaseless songs and endless rest. 

John Chandler. 1837. 


Praise to the radiant Source of bliss, 
Who gives the blind their sight. 

And scatters round their wond'ring eyes 
A flood of sacred light. 

In paths unknown He leads them on 

To His Divine abode, 
And shows new miracles of grace 

Through all the heavenly road. 

144 The Book of Praise. 

The ways all rugged and perplex'd 
He renders smooth and straight, 

And strengthens every feeble knee 
To march to Zion's gate. 

Through all the path I'll sing His Name, 

Till I the Mount ascend, 
Where toils and storms are known no more , 

And anthems never end ! 

Philip Doddridge. 1755. 



'' The Connnunion of Saints''^ {Apostles Creed). 


When Christ the Lord would come on earth, 
His messenger before Him went. 

The greatest born of mortal birth 

And charged with words of deep intent. 

The least of all that here attend 
Hath honour greater far than he ; 

He was the Bridegroom's joyful friend, 
His Body and His Spouse are we. 

A higher race, the sons of light. 

Of water and the Spirit born ; 
He the last star of parting night. 

And v/e the children of the morn. 

The Coninnaiwn of Sain fs. 145 

And, as he boldly spake Thy word, 

And joyed to hear the Bridegroom's voice, 

Thus may Thy pastors teach, O Lord ! 
And thus Thy hearing Church rejoice, 

Henry A /ford. 1S45. 


How rich Thy favours, God of grace, 

How various and Divine ! 
Full as the ocean they are pour'd, 

And bright as Heaven they shine. 

He to eternal glory calls, 

And leads the wondrous way 
To His own Palace, where He reigns 

In uncreated day. 

Jesus, the Herald of His love, 

Displays the radiant prize, 
And shows the purchase of His Blood 

To our admiring eyes. 

He perfects what His hand begins, 

And stone on stone he lays, 
Till firm and fair the building rise 
. A temple to His praise. 

The songs of everlasting years 

That mercy shall attend, 
Which leads, through sufferings of an hour. 

To joys that never end. 

Ph Hip Doddridge. 1755. 

146 The Book of Praise. 


Psalm LXXXIV. 

Pleasant are Thy courts above 
In the land of light and love ; 
Pleasant are thy courts below 
In this land of sin and woe. 
O, my spirit longs and faints 
For the converse of Thy saints, 
For the brightness of Thy face, 
For Thy fulness, God of grace ! 

Happy birds that sing and fly 
Round Thy altars, O Most High ! 
Happier souls that find a rest 
In a Heavenly Fathers breast ! 
Like the wandering dove, that found 
No repose on earth around, 
They can to their ark repair, 
And enjoy it ever there. 

Happy souls ! their praises flow 
Even in this vale of woe ; 
Waters in the desert rise, 
Manna feeds them from the skies: 
On they go from strength to strength. 
Till they reach Thy throne at length, 
At Thy feet adoring fall. 
Who hast led them safe through all. 

Lord I be mine this prize to v/in ! 
Guide me through a world of sin : 
Keep me by Thy saving grace ; 
Give me at Thy side a place : 

Tlie Coinmunioii nf Saints. 14.7 

Sun and Shield alike Thou art ; 
Guide and guard my erring heart ! 
Grace and glory flow from Thee ; 
Shower, O shower them, Lord, on me ! 

Henry Francis Lyte. 1 834. 


Psalm LXXXIV. 

Lord of the worlds above, 
How pleasant and how fair 
The dwellings of Thy love, 
Thy earthly temples, are ! 
To Thine abode 
My heart aspires 
With warm desires 
To see my God. 

O happy souls that pray 
Where God appoints to hear ! 
O happy men that pay 
Their constant service there ! 
They praise Thee still ; 
And happy they 
That love the way 
To Sion's hill. 

They go from strength to strength 
Through this dark vale of tears, 
Till each arrives at length, 
Till each in Heaven appears : 
O glorious scat, 
When God our King 
Shall thither bring 
Our wiUing feet ! 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 
I, 2 

The Book of Praise. 


'Tis Heaven begun below 

To hear Christ's praises flow 
In Zion, v/here His Name is known : 

What will it be above 

To sing redeeming love, 
And cast our crowns before His throne ! 

When we adore Him there, 

We shall be void of fear, 
Nor faith, nor hope, nor patience need : 

Love will absorb us quite, 

Love in the midst of light, 
On God's eternal love shall feed. 

Oh ! what sweet company 

We then shall hear and see ! 
What harmony will there abound ! 

When souls unnumber d sing 

The praise of Zion's King, 
Nor one dissenting voice is found ! 

With everlasting joy, 

Such as will never cloy. 
We shall be fiU'd, nor v/ish for more ; 

Bright as meridian day, 

Calm as the evening ray, 
Full as a sea without a shore- 

Till that blest period come, 

Zion shall be my hom.e ; 
And may I never thence remove. 

Till from the Church below 

To heaven at once I go, 
And there commune in perfect love I 

Joseph Swaifi. 1 792. 

The Comnumioii of Saints. 149 


Lo ! God is here ! Let us adore, 
And own, how dreadful is this place ! 

Let all within us feel His power, 
And silent bow before His face ! 

Who know His power, His grace who prove, 

Serve Him with awe, with reverence love. 

Lo ! God is here ! Him day and night 
Th' united quires of angels sing : 

To Him, enthroned above all height, 

Heaven s hosts their noblest praises bring : 

Disdain not, Lord, our meaner song, 

Who praise Thee with a stammering tongue ! 

Gladly the toys of earth we leave. 
Wealth, pleasure, fame, for Thee alone '. 

To Thee our will, soul, flesh, we give ; 
O take, O seal them for Thine own ! 

Thou art the God ! Thou art the Lord ! 

Be Thou by all Thy works adored ! 

Being of beings, may our praise 

Thy courts with grateful fragrance fill ; 

Still may we stand before Thy face. 
Still hear and do Thy sovereign will ! 

To Thee may all our thoughts arise. 

Ceaseless, accepted sacrifice ! 

In Thee we move ; all things of Thee 
Are full. Thou source and life of all .' 

Thou vast, unfathomable Sea ! 
Fall prostrate, lost in wonder fall. 

Ye sons of men ; for God is Man ! 

All may we lose, so Thee we gain ! 

150 The Book of Praise. 

As flowers their opening leaves display. 

And glad drink in the solar fire, 
So may we catch Thy every ray, 

So may Thy influence us inspire ; 
Thou Beam of the eternal Beam, 
Thou purging Fire ; Thou quickening Flame ! 
Jolm Wesley. 1739. 
F7'0Jn Gerhard Tersteegc7i. 


Jesus, where'er Thy people m.eet, 
There they behold Thy mercy-seat ; 
Where'er they seek Thee, Thou art found, 
And every place is hallowed ground. 

For Thou, within no walls confined, 
Inhabitest the humble mind ; 
Such ever bring Thee where they com.e, 
And going take Thee to their home. 

Dear Shepherd of Thy chosen fev>'. 
Thy former mercies here renew ; 
Here to our waiting hearts proclaim 
The sweetness of Thy saving Name. 

Here may v/e prove the pov/er of prayer 
To strengthen faith, and sweeten care. 
To teach our faint desires to rise, 
And bring all Heaven before our eyes. 

Behold, at Thy commanding word. 
We stretch the curtain and the cord ; 
Come Thou, and fill this wider space, 
And bless us with a large increase. 

The Co7nmitnio7i of Saints. 151 

Lord, we are few, but Thou art near ; 
Nor short Thine arm, nor deaf Thine ear ; 
O rend the heavens, come quickly down, 
And make a thousand hearts Thine own ! 

William Cowper. 1779. 


The heaven of heavens cannot contain 

The Universal Lord ; 
Yet He in humble hearts will deign 

To dwell and be adored. 

Where'er ascends the sacrifice 

Of fervent praise and prayer, 
Or on the earth, or in the skies. 

The Heaven of God is there. 

His presence there is spread abroad 

Through realms, through worlds unknown ; 

Who seeks the mercies of his God 
Is ever near His Throne. 

William Drennan. 18 15. 


How blest the sacred tie that binds, 
In union sweet, according minds; 
How swift the heavenly course they run, 
Whose hearts, whose faith, whose hopes are oie 

To each the soul of each how dear ! 
What jealous love, what holy fear ! 
How doth the generous flame within 
Refme from earth, and cleanse from sin ! 

152 The Book of Praise. 

Their streaming tears together flow 
For human guilt and mortal woe ; 
Their ardent prayers together rise 
Like mingling flames in sacrifice. 

Together both they seek the place 
Where God reveals His awful face ; 
How high, how strong, their raptures swell, 
There's none but kindred souls can tell. 

Nor shall the glowing flame expire, 
When nature droops her sickening fire ; 
Then shall they meet in realms above ; 
A heaven of joy, because of love. 

Amia LcBtitia Bcwbauld. [1773.] 


O quam jtivat fratres, Dens. 

O Lord, how joyful 'tis to see 
The brethren join in love to Thee ; 
On Thee alone their heart relies, 
Their only strength Thy grace supplies. 

How SAveet, within Thy holy place. 
With one accord to sing Thy grace, 
Besieging Thine attentive ear 
With all the force of fervent prayer. 

O may we love the house of God, 
Of peace and joy the blest abode ; 
O may no angry strife destroy 
That sacred peace, that holy joy. 

The world without may rage, but we 
Will only cling more close to Thee, 
With hearts to Thee more wholly given. 
More wean'd from earth, more fix'd on Heaven. 

The Conwiunioji of Saints. 153 

Lord, shower upon us from above 
The sacred gift of mutual love ; 
Each other's wants may we supply, 
And reign together in the sky. 

John Chandler. 1S37. 


Come, let us join our friends above, 

That have obtain'd the prize, 
And on the eagle wings of love 

To joy celestial rise. 
Let all the saints terrestrial sing 

With those to glory gone. 
For all the servants of our King, 

In earth and Heaven, are one. 

One family, we dwell in Him, 

One Church, above, beneath. 
Though now divided by the stream, 

The narrow stream of death. 
One army of the living God, 

To His command we bow ; 
Part of His host hath cross'd the flood, 

And part is crossing now. 

Ten thousand to their endless home 

This solemn moment fly ; 
And we are to the margin come. 

And we expect to die ; 
His militant embodied host 

With wishful looks we stand, 
And long to see that happy coast, 

And reach that heavenlv land. 

154 The Book of Praise. 

Our old companions in distress 

We haste again to see, 
And eager long for our release 

And full felicity : 
Even now by faith we join our hands 

With those that went before, 
And greet the blood-besprinkled bands 

On the eternal shore. 

Our spirits too shall quickly join, 

Like theirs with glory crown'd, 
And shout to see our Captain's sign, 

To hear His trumpet sound. 
Oh ! that we now might grasp our Guide ! 

Oh ! that the word were given ! 
Come, Lord of hosts ! the waves divide. 

And land us all in Heaven ! 

Charles Wesley. 1759. 


Hosanna to the Living Lord ! 
Hosanna to the Incarnate Word ! 
To Christ, Creator, Saviour, King, 
Let earth, let Heaven, Hosanna sing. 

Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 

" Hosanna," Lord, Thine angels cry ; 
" Hosanna," Lord, Thy saints reply : 
Above, beneath us, and around, 
The dead and living swell the sound. 

Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 

O Saviour, with protecting care 
Return to this Thy house of prayer, 
Assembled in Thy sacred Name, 
Where we Thy parting promise claim. 

Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 

The Forgiveness of Sins . 155 

But, chiefest, in our cleansed breast, 
Eternal, bid Thy Spirit rest ; 
And make our secret soul to be 
A temple pure, and worthy Thee. 

Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 

So, in the last and dreadful day, 
When earth and Heaven shall melt away, 
Thy flock, redeem'd from sinful stain. 
Shall swell the sound of praise again. 

Hosanna ! Lord ! Hosanna in the highest ! 
Bishop Reginald Heber. 1 8 1 1 . 


" I acknoiuledge one Baptisvi for the Revtission of Sins,' 


Psalm CIII. 

My soul, repeat His praise 
Whose mercies are so great, 
Wliose anger is so slow to rise, 
So ready to abate. 

High as the heavens arc raised 
Above the ground we tread, 
So far the riches of His grace 
Our highest thoughts exceed. 

His power subdues our sins ; 
And His forgiving love, 
Far as the cast is from the west, 
Doth all our guilt remove. 

156 The Book of Praise. 

The pity of the Lord 
To those that fear His Name, 
Is such as tender parents feel ; 
He knows our feeble frame. 

Our days are as the grass, 
Or like the morning flower ; 
If one sharp blast sweep o'er the field, 
It withers in an hour. 

But Thy compassions, Lord, 
To endless years endure. 
And children's children ever find 
Thy words of promise sure. 

Isaac Watts. 1719 


There is a fountain fill'd with blood 
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins ; 

And sinners, plunged beneath that flood, 
Lose all their guilty stains. 

The dying thief rejoiced to see 

That fountain in his day ; 
And there have I, as vile as he, 

Wash'd all my sins away. 

Dear dying Lamb ! Thy precious Blood 

Shall never lose its power, 
Till all the ransom'd Church of God 

Be saved, to sin no more. 

E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream 

Thy flowing wounds supply, 
Redeeming love has been my theme, 

And shall be till I die. 

The Forgiveness of Sins. \ 5 7 

Then in a nobler, sweeter song 

I'll sing Thy power to save, 
When this poor lisping, stammering tongue 

Lies silent in the grave. 

Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, 

Unworthy though I be, 
For me a blood-bought free reward, 

A golden harp for me : 

'Tis strung, and tuned for endless years. 

And form'd by power divine, 
To sound in God the Father's ears, 

No other Name but Thine. 

William Cowper. 1779. 


Jesu, Thou art my Righteousness, 

For all my sins were Thine ; 
Thy death hath bought of God my peace. 

Thy life hath made Him mine. 

Spotless and just in Thee I am ; 

I feel my sins forgiven ; 
I taste salvation in Thy Name, 

And antedate my heaven. 

For ever here my rest shall be. 

Close to Thy bleeding side ; 
This all my hope, and all my plea, 

For me the Saviour died ! 

My dying Saviour and my God, 

Fountain for guilt and sin, 
Sprinkle me ever with Thy Blood, 

And cleanse and keep me clean ! 

158 The Book of Praise, 

Wash me, and make me thus Thine own ; 

Wash me, and mine Thou art ! 
Wash me, but not my feet alone : 

My hands, my head, my heart ! 

Th' atonement of Thy Blood apply, 

Till faith to sight improve ; 
Till hope in full fruition die. 

And all my soul be love. 

Charles Wesley. 1740. 


Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 

Let me hide myself in Thee ! 

Let the water and the blood. 

From Thy riven side which flowed, 

Be of sin the double cure. 

Cleanse me from its guilt and power. 

Not the labours of my hands 
Can fulfil Thy law's demands ; 
Could my zeal no respite know, 
Could my tears for ever flow, 
All for sin could not atone ; 
Thou must save, and Thou alone. 

Nothing in my hand I bring ; 
Simply to Thy Cross I cling ; 
Naked, come to Thee for dress ; 
Helpless, look to Thee for grace ; 
Foul, I to the Fountain fly ; 
Wash me, Saviour, or I die ! 

The Forgiveness of Sins. 1 5 9 

While I draw this fleeting breath, 
When my eyestrings break in death, 
When I soar through tracts unknown, 
See Thee on Thy judgment-throne ; 
Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
Let me hide myself in Thee ! 

Augustus Montague Toplady. lyyt 


God of my salvation, hear. 
And help me to believe ; 

Simply do I now draw near, 
Thy blessing to receive. 

Full of guilt, alas ! I am. 
But to Thy wounds for refuge flee ; 

Friend of sinners ! spotless Lamb ! 
Thy Blood was shed for me. 

Standing now as newly slain, 
To Thee I lift mine eye ; 

Balm of all my grief and pain, 
Thy Blood is always nigh ; 

Now as yesterday the same 
Thou art, and v>'ilt for ever be ; 

P>iend of sinners ! spotless Lamb ! 
Thy Blood was shed for me. 

Nothing have I, Lord, to pay, 
Nor can Thy grace procure ; 

Empty send me not away, 

For I, Thou know'st, am poor : 

Dust and ashes is my name, 
My all is sin and miser)' ; 

Friend of sinners ! spotless Lamb ! 
Thy Blood was shed for me. 

i6o The Book of Praise. 

No good work, or word, or thought, 

Bring I to gain Thy grace ; 
Pardon I accept unbought, 

Thy proffer I embrace ; 
Coming, as at first I came, 
To take, and not bestow on Thee ; 
Friend of sinners ! spotless Lamb ! 

Thy Blood was shed for me. 

Saviour ! from Thy wounded side 

I never will depart ; 
Here will I my spirit hide 

When I am pure in heart : 

Till my place above I claim, 

This only shall be all my plea, 

Friend of sinners ! spotless Lamb ! 
Thy Blood was shed for me. 

Charles Wesley. 174.2. 


Just as I am, without one plea 
But that Thy Blood was shed for me, 
And that Thou bidd'st me come to Thee, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, and waiting not 
To rid my soul of one dark blot, 
To" Thee, whose Blood can cleanse each spot, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, though toss'd about 
With many a conilict, many a doubt, 
Fightings and fears within, without, 
O Lamb of God, I come I 

The Forgivejiess of Si7is. i6i 

Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind, 
Sight, riches, healing of the mind, 
Yea, all I need, in Thee to find, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am. Thou wilt receive. 
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve ! 
Because Thy promise I believe, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, (Thy Love unknown 
Has broken every barrier down,) 
Now, to be Thine, yea. Thine alone, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Just as I am, of that free love 
The breadth, length, depth, and height to prove, 
Here for a season, then above, 
O Lamb of God, I come ! 

Charlotte Elliott. 1836. 


When wounded sore the stricken soul 

Lies bleeding and unbound, 
One only hand, a pierced hand. 

Can salve the sinner's wound. 

And tears of anguish flow, 
One only heart, a broken heart, 
Can feel the sinner's woe. 

When penitence has wept in vain 
Over some foul dark spot, 

One only stream, a stream of blood, 
Can wash away the blot. 

'Tis Jesus' blood that washes white, 
His hand that brings relief, 


The Book of Praise. 

His heart that's touch'd with all our joys 
A_nd feeleth for our grief. 

Lift up Thy bleeding hand, O Lord ; 

Unseal that cleansing tide ; 
We have no shelter from our sin, 

But in Thy wounded side. 

Cecil Frances A lexa^tder. 1 85 ! 



And I look for the Kestirrectioji of the dead, and the 
Life of the ivorld to come. Amen." 


Earth to earth, and dust to dust, 
Lord, we own the sentence just ; 
Head and tongue, and hand and heart, 
All in guilt have borne their part ; 
Righteous is the common doom, 
All must moulder in the tomb. 

Like the seed in spring-time sown. 
Like the leaves in autumn strown, 
Low these goodly frames must lie. 
All our pomp and glory die ; 
Soon the Spoiler seeks his prey, 
Soon he bears us all away. 

Yet the seed, upraised again, 
Clothes with green the smiling plain ; 
Onward as the seasons move, 
Leaves and blossoms deck the grove ; 
And shall we forgotten lie. 
Lost for ever, when we die ? 

Resurrection and Eternal Life. 1 63 

Lord, from Nature's gloomy night 
Turn we to the Gospel's light ; 
Thou didst triumph o'er the grave, 
Thou wilt all Thy people save ; 
Ransom'd by Thy Blood, the just 
Rise immortal from the dust. 

John Hampden Gnrney. 1830. 


O God, Thy grace and blessing give 
To us, who on thy Name attend. 

That we this mortal life may live 
Regardful of our journey's end. 

Teach us to know that Jesus died, 
And rose again, our souls to save ; 

Teach us to take Him as our Guide, 
Our Help from childhood to the grave. 

Then shall not death with terror come. 
But welcome as a bidden guest, 

The herald of a better home, 
The messenger of peace and rest. 

And, when the awful signs appear 
Of Judgment, and the Throne above. 

Our hearts still fix'd, we shall not fear, 
God is our trust ; and God is Love. 

Anon. [1853.] 


Dearest of names, our Lord, our King ! 
Jesus, Thy praise we humbly sing : 
In cheerful songs we'll spend our breath. 
And in Thee triumph over death. 
M 2 

The Book of Praise. 

Death is no more among our foes, 
Since Christ, the mighty Conqueror, rose ; 
Both power and sting the Saviour broke ; 
He died, and gave the finish'd stroke. 

Saints die, and we should gently weep ; 
Sweetly in Jesus' arms they sleep ; 
Far from this world of sin and woe, 
Nor sin, nor pain, nor grief, they know. 

Death no terrific foe appears ; 
An angel's lovely form he wears ; 
A friendly messenger he proves 
To every soul whom Jesus loves. 

Death is a sleep ; and O ! how sweet 
To souls prepared its stroke to meet ! 
Their dying beds, their graves are blest. 
For all to them is peace and rest. 

Their bodies sleep ; their souls take wing, 
Uprise to Heaven, and there they sing 
With joy before the Saviour's face, 
Triumphant in victorious grace. 

Soon shall the earth's remotest bound 
Feel the Archangel's trumpet sound ; 
Then shall the grave's dark caverns shake, 
And joyful all the saints shall Avake. 

Bodies?and souls shall then unite, 
Arrayed in glory, strong and bright ; 
And all His saints will Jesus bring 
His face to see, His love to sins:. 

Restirrectioji and Eternal Life. 165 

may I live, with Jesus nigh, 
And sleep in Jesus when I die ! 
Then, joyful, when from death I wake, 

1 shall eternal bliss partake. 

Samuel Medley. 1 800. 


We sing His love, Who once was slain. 
Who soon o'er death revived again. 
That all His saints through Him might have 
Eternal conquests o'er the grave. 

Soon shall the trumpet sound, and we 

Shall rise to immortality. 

The saints, who now with Jesus sleep, 
His own Almighty power shall keep, 
Till dawns the bright illustrious day 
When death itself shall die away : 

Soon shall the trumpet sound, and we 

Shall rise to immortality. 

How loud shall our glad voices sing, 
When Christ His risen saints shall bring 
From beds of dust, and silent clay, 
To realms of everlasting day ! 

Soon shall the trumpet sound, and we 

Shall rise to immortality. 

When Jesus we in glory meet, 
Our utmost joys shall be complete ; 
When landed on that heavenly shore, 
Death and the curse will be no more : 

Soon shall the trumpet sound, and we 

Shall rise to immortality. 

1 66 The Book of Praise. 

Hasten, dear Lord, the glorious day, 
And this dehghtful scene display, 
When all Thy saints from death shall rise 
Raptured in bliss beyond the skies ! 

Soon shall the trumpet sound, and we 

Shall rise to immortality. 

Roiulaiid Hill. 1 796. 


My life's a shade, my days 
Apace to death decline ; 
My Lord is Life, He'll raise 
My dust again, ev'n mine. 

Sweet truth to me ! 

I shall arise, 

And with these eyes 

JNIy Saviour see. 

My peaceful grave shall keep 
iMy bones till that sweet day ; 
I wake from my long sleep 
And leave my bed of clay. 

Sweet truth to me ! 

I shall arise, 

And with these eyes 

My Saviour see. 

My Lord His angels shall 
Their golden trumpets sound, 
At whose most welcome call 
My grave shall be unbound. 

Sweet truth to me ! 

I shall arise, 

And with these eye- 

My Saviour see. 

Resurrection and Eternal Life, 167 

I said sometimes with tears, 
Ah me ! I'm loth to die ! 
Lord, silence Thou these fears : 
My life's with Thee on high. 

Sweet truth to m.e ! 

I shall arise, 

And with these eyes 

My Saviour see. 

What means my trembling heart, 
To be thus shy of death ? 
My Life and I sha'nt part. 
Though I resign my breath. 

Sweet truth to me ! 

I shall arise, 

And with these eyes 

My Saviour see. 

Then welcome, harmless grave ! 
By thee to heaven I'll go : 
My Lord His death shall save 
Me from the flames below. 

Sweet truth to me ! 

I shall arise, 

And with these eyes 

My Saviour see. 

Samuel Crossnian. 1664. 


Why do we mourn departing friends. 
Or shake at death's alarms ? 

'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends 
To call them to His arms. 

1 68 The Book of Praise. 

Are we not tending upward too, 

As fast as time can move ? 
Nor would we wish the hours more siow 

To keep us from our love. 

Why should we tremble to convey 

Their bodies to the tomb ? 
There the dear flesh of Jesus lay^ 

And left a long perfume. 

The graves of all His saints He bless'd, 

And softened every bed : 
Where should the dying members rest, 

But with the dying Head ? 

Thence He arose, ascending high, 
And showed our feet the way ; 

Up to the Lord oar flesh shall fly 
At the great rising day. 

Then let the last loud trumpet sound, 

And bid our kindred rise : 
Awake, ye nations under ground ! 

Ye saints, ascend the skies ! 

Isaac Watts. \yo(). 


Spirit ! leave thine house of clay ! 

Lingering dust, resign thy breath ! 
Spirit ! cast thy chains away ! 

Dust, be thou dissolved in death ! 
Thus the Almighty Saviour speaks. 

While the faithful Christian dies ; 
Thus the bonds of life he breaks. 

And the ransomed captive flies. 

ResmTcctioii and Ekrna^ Life. 1 69 

Prisoner, long detained below ; 

Prisoner, now with freedom blest ; 
Welcome from a world of woe, 

Welcome to a Land of Rest ! 
Thus the choir of angels sing, 

As they bear the soul on high, 
While with hallelujahs ring 

All the regions ot the sky. 

Grave, the guardian of our dust ! 

Grave, the treasury of the skies ! 
Every atom of thy trust 

Rests in hope again to rise. 
Hark ! the Judgment trumpet calls : 

Soul, rebuild thy house of clay. 
Immortality thy walls. 

And Eternity thy day ! 

Variatio?L [181 2.I 
From Jajnes MoJtfgojnery. 1803, 


Deathless principle, arise ! 
Soar, thou native of the skies ; 
Pearl of price, by Jesus bought, 
To His glorious likeness wrought ! 

Go, to shine before His throne ; 
Deck his mediatorial crown ; 
Go, His triumphs to adorn ; 
Made for God, to God return ! 

Lo, He beckons from on high ! 
Fearless to His presence tiy ! 
Thine the merit of His Blood ; 
Thine the Righteousness of God. 

I/O The Book of Praise. 

Angels, joyful to attend, 
Hovering round thy pillow, bend. 
Wait to catch the signal given, 
And escort thee quick to Heaven. 

Is thy earthly house distrest, 
Willing to retain her guest ? 
'Tis not thou, but she, must die ; 
Fly, celestial tenant, fly ! 

Burst thy shackles, drop thy clay, 
Sweetly breathe thyself away ; 
Singing, to thy crown remove, 
Swift of wing, and fired with love. 

Shudder not to pass the stream ; 
Venture all thy care on Him ; 
Him, whose dying love and power 
Still'd its tossing, hush'd its roar. 

Safe is the expanded wave, 
Gentle as a summer's eve ; 
Not one object of His care 
Ever suffered shipwreck there. 

See the haven full in view ; 
Love Divine shall bear thee through 
Trust to that propitious gale ; 
Weigh thy anchor, spread thy sail. 

Saints, in glory perfect made, 

Wait thy passage through the shade ; 

Ardent for thy coming o'er. 

See, they throng the blissful shore ! 

Resurrection and Eternal Life. lyi 

Mount, their transports to improve ; 
Join the longing choir above ; 
Swiftly to their wish be given ; 
Kindle higher joy in Heaven ! 

Such the prospects that arise 
To the dying Christian's eyes ; 
Such the glorious vista faith 
Opens through the shades of death, 

Augustus Montague Toplady, 1777- 


Happy soul ! thy days are ended, 

All thy mourning days below ; 
Go, by angel guards attended, 

To the sight of Jesus go ! 
Waiting to receive thy spirit, 

Lo, the Saviour stands above, 
Shews the purchase of His merit. 

Reaches out the crown of love ! 

Struggle through thy latest passion 

To thy dear Redeemer's breast, 
To His uttermost salvation, 

To His everlasting rest ! 
For the joy He sets before thee. 

Bear a momentary pain ; 
Die, to live the life of glory ; 

Suffer, with thy Lord to reign ! 

diaries Wesley. 1749. 

172 The Book of Praise. 


The waves of trouble, how they rise, 

How loud the tempests roar ! 
But death shall land our weary scuis 

Safe on the heavenly shore. 

There, to fulfil His sweet commands, 

Our speedy feet shall move ; 
No sin shall clog our winged zeal, 

Or cool our burning love. 

There shall we sit, and sing, and tell 

The wonders of His grace. 
Till heavenly raptures fire our hearts, 

And smile in every face. 

For ever His dear sacred Name 

Shall dwell upon our tongue, 
And Jesus and salvation be 

The close of every song. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 


Ye golden lamps of heaven, farewell. 

With all your feeble light : 
Farewell, thou ever-changing moon, 

Pale empress of the night. 

And thou, refulgent orb of day, 

In brighter flames array'd ; 
My soul, that springs beyond thy sphere. 

No more demands thine aid. 

Resurrection and Eternal Life. 1 73 

Ye stars are but the shining dust 

Of my divine abode. 
The pavement of those heavenly courts 

Where I shall reign with God. 

The Father of eternal light 

Shall there His beams display, 
Nor shall one moment's darkness mix 

With that unvaried day. 

No more the drops of piercing grief 

Shall swell into mine eyes ; 
Nor the meridian sun decline 

Amid those brighter skies. 

There all the millions of His saints 

Shall in one song unite, 
And each the bliss of all shall view 

With infinite delight. 

Philip Doddridge. 1755. 


Far from these narrow scenes of night 

Unbounded glories rise, 
And realms of infinite delight, 

Unknown to mortal eyes. 

Fair distant land ; could mortal eyes 

But half its joys explore, 
How would our spirits long to rise, 

And dwell on earth no more ! 

74 The Book of Praise. 

There pain and sickness never come, 
And grief no more complains : 

Health triumphs in immortal bloom, 
And endless pleasure reigns. 

No cloud those blissful regions kno-v^ 

For ever bright and fair ; 
For sin, the source of mortal woe, 

Can never enter there. 

There no alternate night is known. 

Nor sun's faint sickly ray ; 
But glory from the sacred Throne 

Spreads everlasting day. 

The glorious monarch there displays 
His beams of wondrous grace ; 

His happy subjects sing His praise, 
And bow before His face. 

O may the heavenly prospect fire 

Our hearts with ardent love. 
Till wings of faith and strong desire 

Bear every thought above ! 

Prepare us, Lord, by grace divine, 
For Thy bright courts on high ; 

Then bid our spirits rise, and join 
The chorus of the sky. 

An?ie Steele. 1760. 

Rcsicrrcction and Eternal Life. 1 75 


There is a land of pure delight, 

Where saints immortal reign, 
Infinite day excludes the night, 

And pleasures banish pain. 

There everlasting spring abides, 

And never withering flowers ; 
Death, like a narrow sea, divides 

This heavenly land from ours. 

Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood 

Stand dress'd in living green : 
So to the Jews old Canaan stood, 

While Jordan roll'd between. 

But timorous mortals start and shrink 

To cross this narrow sea, 
And linger shivering on the brink, 

And fear to launch away. 

O ! could we make our doubts remove, 

These gloomy doubts that rise. 
And see the Canaan that we love 

With unbcclouded eyes ; 

Could we but climb where Moses stood. 

And view the landscape o'er ; 
Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, 

Should fright us from the shore. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 

\j6 The Book of Praise. 


There is a blessed Home 

Beyond this land of woe, 
Where trials never come, 

Nor tears of sorrow flow ; 
Vvhere faith is lost in sight. 

And patient hope is crown'd, 
And everlasting light 

Its glory throws around. 

There is a land of peace, 

Good angels know it well ; 
Glad songs that never cease 

Within its portals swell ; 
Around its glorious Throne 

Ten thousand saints adore 
Christ, with the Father One, 

And Spirit, evermore. 

O joy all joys beyond, 

To see the Lamb who died, 
And count each sacred wound 

In hands, and feet, and side ; 
To give to Him the praise 

Of every triumph won. 
And sing through endless days 

The great things He hath done. 

Look up, ye saints of God, 

Nor fear to tread below 
The path your Saviour trod 

Of daily toil and woe ; 
Wait but a little while 

In uncomplaining love, 
His own most gracious smile 

Shall welcome you above. 

Sir Henry Baker. t86i. 

Resnrrectio7i and Eternal Life. i 'j'j 


The roseate hues of early dawn, 

The brightness of the day, 
The crimson of the sunset sky, 

How fast they fade away ! 
Oh ! for the pearly gates of heaven ! 

Oh ! for the golden floor ! 
Oh ! for the Sun of Righteousness 

That setteth nevermore ! 

The highest hopes we cherish here, 

How fast they tire and faint ! 
How many a spot defiles the robe 

That wraps an earthly saint ! 
Oh ! for a heart that never sins ! 

Oh ! for a soul wash'd white ! 
Oh ! for a voice to praise our King, 

Nor weary day or night ! 

Here faith is ours, and heavenly hope, 

And grace to lead us higher ; 
But there are perfectness and peace 

Beyond our best desire. 
Oh ! by Thy love and anguish, Lord ! 

Oh ! by Thy life laid down ! 
Oh ! that we fall not from Thy grace, 

Nor cast away our crown ! 

Cecil Frances Alexander. [1853.] 


Friend after friend departs ; 

Who hath not lost a friend ? 

There is no union here of hearts, 


173 The Book of Praise, 

That finds not here an end : 
Were this frail world our only rest, 
Living or dying, none were blest. 

Beyond the flight of time, 

Beyond this vale of death, 
There surely is some blessed clime, 

Where life is not a breath, 
Nor life's affections transient fire, 
Whose sparks fly upwards to expire. 

There is a world above, 
WTiere parting is unknown \ 

A whole eternity of love, 
Form'd for the good alone : 

And faith beholds the dying here 

Translated to that happier sphere. 

'I'hus star by star declines 

Till all are pass'd away, 
As morning high and higher shines 

To pure and perfect day ; 
Nor sink those stars in empty night ; 
rhey hide themselves in heaven's own light. 
James Montgomery, 1824. 


Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings, 

Thy better portion trace ; 
Rise from transitory things 

Towards Heaven, thy native place. 
Sun and moon and stars decay ; 
Time shall soon this earth remove ; 
Rise, my soul^ and haste away 

To seats prepared above. 

Res7irrection and Eternal Life. lyg 

Rivers to the ocean run, 

Nor stay in all their course ; 
Fire ascending seeks the sun ; 

Both speed them to their source : 
So my soul, derived from God, 
Pants to view His glorious face, 
Forward tends to His abode, 

To rest in His embrace. 

Fly me Riches, fly me Cares, 

Whilst I that coast explore ; 
Flattering vv^orld, with all thy snares, 

Solicit me no more ! 
Pilgrims fix not here their home ; 
Strangers tarry but a night ; 
When the last dear morn is come, 

They'll rise to joyful light. 

Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn ; 

Press onward to the prize ; 
Soon our Saviour will return 

Triumphant in the skies. 
Yet a season, and you know 
Happy entrance will be given, 
All our sorrows left below. 

And earth exchanged for heaven. 

r.ohe^-t Seai^rave. 1 748. 

N 2 

I So The Book of Praise. 


We seek a rest beyond the skies, 

In everlasting day ; 
Through floods and flames the passage Hes, 

But Jesus guards the way : 
The swelHng flood, and raging flame. 

Hear and obey His Avord ; 
Then let us triumph in His Name ; 

Our Saviour is the Lord ! 

John Newton. 1779. 


There is an hour, when I must part 
With all I hold most dear ; 

And life, with its best hopes, will then 
As nothingness appear. 

There is an hour, when I must lie 

Low on affliction's bed. 
And anguish, pain, and tears become 

My bitter daily bread. 

There is an hour, when I must sink 
Beneath the stroke of death. 

And yield to Him, who gave it first, 
My struggling vital breath. 

There is an hour, when I must stand 

Before the judgment seat, 
And all my sins, and all my foes, 

In awful vision meet. 

Resurrection mid Eternal Life. 1 8 1 

There is an hour, when I must look 

On one eternity, 
And nameless woe, or blissful life, 

My endless portion be. 

O Saviour, then, in all my need, 

Be near, be near to me ; 
And let my soul, in stedfast faith, 

Find life and Heaven in Thee ! 

Andrew Reed. 1842. 


Psalm XC. 

Our God, our help in ages past. 
Our hope for years to come. 

Our shelter from the stormy blast, 
And our eternal home : 

Under the shadow of Thy Throne 
Thy saints have dwelt secure ; 

Sufficient is Thine arm alone, 
And our defence is sure. 

Before the hills in order stood. 
Or earth received her frame. 

From everlasting Thou art God, 
To endless years the same. 

A thousand ages in Thy sight 

Are like an evening gone ; 
Short as the watch that ends the night 

Before the rising sun. 

1 82 The Book of Praise. 

The busy tribes of flesh and blood, 
With all their lives and cares, 

Are carried downwards by Thy flood, 
And lost in following years. 

Time, like an ever-rolling streain, 

Bears all its sons away ; 
They fly forgotten, as a dream 

Dies at the opening day. 

Our God, our help in ages past ; 

Our hope for years to come ; 
Be Thou our guard while troubles last, 

And our eternal home ! 

Isaac Watts, 1719. 




t §odI\ of fraist. 



{L7d'e xi. I.) 


Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, 

Utter'd, -or unexpress'd ; 
The motion of a hidden fire 

That trembles in the breast. 

Prayer is the burthen of a sigh, 

The falling of a tear, 
The upward glancing of the eye, 

When none but God is near. 

Prayer is the simplest form of speech 

That infant lips can try ; 
Prayer the sublimest strains that reach 

The Majesty on high. 

Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice 

Returning from his ways. 
While angels in their songs rejoice, 

And cry, P>ehold, he prays ! 

1 86 71ie Book of Praise. 

Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, 

The Christian's native air ; 
His watchword at the gates of death ; 

He enters Heaven with prayer. 

The saints, in prayer, appear as one 
In word, and deed, and mind ; 

While with the Father and the Son 
Sweet fellovv'ship they find. 

Nor prayer is made by man alone : 

The Holy Spirit pleads ; 
And Jesus, on the eternal Throne, 

For mourners intercedes. 

O Thou, by Whom we come to God ! 

The Life, the Truth, the Way ! 
The path of prayer Thyself hast trod : 

Lord ! teach us how to pray ! 

James Montgomery. 1S19. 



Psalm LXHL 

O God, Thou art my God alone ; 

Early to Thee my soul shall cry ; 
A pilgrim in a land unknown, 

A thirsty land whose springs are dry. 

" Our Father^ luhich art in Heaven y 187 

Oh ! that it were as it hath been ! 

When, praying in the holy place, 
Thy power and glory I have seen, 

And marked the footsteps of Thy grace ! 

Yet, through this rough and thorny maze, 
I follow hard on Thee, my God : 

Thine hand unseen upholds my ways ; 
I safely tread where Thou hast trod. 

Thee, in the watches of the night. 

When I remember on my bed. 
Thy Presence makes the darkness light. 

Thy guardian wings are round my head. 

Better than life itself Thy love, 

Dearer than all beside to me : 
For whom have I in Heaven above. 

Or what on earth compared to Thee? 

Praise with my heart, my mind, my voice, 

For all Thy mercy I will give ; 
My soul shall still in God rejoice ; 

My tongue shall bless Thee while I live, 
James Montgomery. 1822. 


Psalm CXLV. 

My God, my King, Thy various praise 
Shall fill the remnant of my days ; 
Thy grace employ my humble tongue, 
Till death and glory raise the song. 

1 88 The Book of Praise. 

The wings of every hour shall bear 
Some thankful tribute to Thine ear, 
And every setting sun shall see 
New works of duty done for Thee. 

Thy truth and justice I'll proclaim ; 
Thy bounty flows, an endless stream ; 
Thy mercy swift, Thine anger slow, 
But dreadful to the stubborn foe. 

But who can speak Thy wondrous deeds ? 
Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds ; 
Vast and unsearchable Thy ways, 
Vast and immortal be Thy praise ! 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 


Psalm CXXXIX. 

Lord, Thou hast form'd mine every part. 
Mine inmost thought is known to Thee ; 

Each word, each feeling of my heart, 
Thine ear doth hear, Thine eye can see. 

Though I should seek the shades of night, 

And hide myself in guilty fear, 
To Thee the darkness seems as light. 

The midnight as the noonday clear. 

The heavens, the earth, the sea, the sky, 
All ovv'n Thee ever present there ; 

Where'er I turn, Thou still art nigh. 
Thy Spirit dwelling everywhere. 

Oh may that Spirit, ever blest. 

Upon my soul in radiance shine, 
Till, welcomed to eternal rest, 

I taste Thy Presence, Lord Divine ! 

Robert Allan Scoti. 1839. 

" Our Father, w/ilch art in Heaven'' 189 


When all Thy mercies, O my God, 

My rising soul surveys, 
Transported with the view, I'm lost 

In wonder, love, and praise. 

O how shall words with equal warmtli 

The gratitude declare, 
That glows within my ravish'd heart ! 

But Thou canst read it there. 

Thy Providence my life sustain'd. 

And all my wants redrest. 
When in the silent womb I lay. 

And hung upon the breast. 

To all my weak complaints and cries 

Thy mercy lent an ear, 
Ere yet my feeble thour;ats had learnt 

To form themselves in prayer. 

Unnumbered comforts to my soul 

Thy tender care bestowed, 
Before my infant heart conceived 

From whence these comforts flowed. 

When in the slippery paths of youth 

With heedless steps I ran. 
Thine arm, unseen, conveyed me safe, 

And led me up to man. 

IQO Tlie Book of Praise. 

Through hidden dangers, toils, and death, 

It gently clear'd my way ; 
And through the pleasing snares of vice, 

More to be fear'd than they. 

When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou 
With health reneu^d my face ; 

And, when in sins and sorrows sunk, 
Revived my soul with grace. 

Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss 
Has made my cup run o'er ; 

And in a kind and faithful friend 
Has doubled all my store. 

Ten thousand thousand precious gifts 

My daily thanks employ ; 
Nor is the least a cheerful heart 

That tastes those gifts with joy. 

Through every period of my life 

Thy goodness I'll pursue ; 
And after death, in distant worlds, 

The glorious theme renew. 

When nature fails, and day and night 

Divide thy works no more, 
My ever-grateful heaTt, O Lord, 

Thy mercy shall adore. 

Through all eternity to Thee 

A joyful song I'll raise : 
But O ! eternity's too short 

To utter all Thy praise ! 

Joseph Addison. 17; 

" Thy Kifigdom comeP 191 




Lord ! come away ! 
Why dost Thou stay ? 
Thy road is ready ; and Thy paths made straight 

With longing expectation wait 
The consecration of Thy beauteous feet ! 
Ride on triumphantly ! Behold, we lay 
Oar lusts and proud wills in Thy way ! 

Hosanna ! Welcome, to our hearts I Lord, here 
Thou hast a temple too ; and full as dear 
As that of Sion, and as full of sin : 
Nothing but thieves and robbers dwell therein : 
Enter, and chase them forth, and cleanse the floor ! 
Crucify them, that they may never more 
Profane that holy place 
Where Thou hast chose to set Thy face ! 
And then, if our stiff tongues shall be 
Mute in the praises of Thy Deity, 
The stones out of the temple wall 
Shall cry aloud, and call 
Hosanna ! and Thy glorious footsteps greet ! Amen ! 
Bishop Jeremy Taylor. 1655. 


Jesus, Thy Church with longing eyes 
P^or Thy expected coming waits ; 

When will the promised light arise. 
And ,glory beam from Zion's gates ? 

192 The Book of Praise. 

Ev'n now, when tempests round us fall, 
And wintry clouds o'ercast the sky, 

Thy words with pleasure we recall, 
And deem that our redemption's nigh. 

Com.e, gracious Lord, our hearts renew, 
Our foes repel, our wrongs redress, 

Man's rooted enmity subdue, 

And crown Thy Gospel with success. 

O come, and reign o'er every land ; 

Let Satan from his throne be hurFd ; 
All nations bow to Thy command, 

And grace revive a dying world ! 

Yes, Thou wilt speedily appear ! 

The smitten earth already reels ; 
And not far off we seem to hear 

The thunder of Thy chariot wheels. 

Teach us in watchfulness and prayer 
To wait for the appointed hour ; 

And fit us by Thy grace to share 

The triumphs of Thy conquering power. 

William Hiley Bat hurst. 1831, 


Light of the lonely pilgrim's heart, 

Star of the coming day ! 
Arise, and with Thy morning beams 

Chase all our griefs away ! 

" Thy Kingdom coined 1 93 

Come, blessed Lord ! let every shore 

And answering island sing 
The praises of Thy royal name, 

And own Thee as their King. 

Bid the whole earth, responsive now 

To the bright world above, 
Break forth in rapturous strains of joy 

In memory of Thy love. 

Lord, Lord ! Thy fair creation groans. 

The air, the earth, the sea. 
In unison with all our hearts. 

And calls aloud for Thee. 

Thine was the Cross, with all its fruits 

Of grace and peace divine : 
Be Thine the crown of glory now. 

The palm of victory Thine ! 

Sir Edward Den ny, 1 848, 


O Saviour ! is Thy promise fled ? 

Nor longer might Thy grace endure 
To heal the sick, and raise the dead. 

And preach the Gospel to the poor ? 

Come, Jesus, come ! return again ; 

With brighter beam Thy servants bless 
Who long to feel Thy perfect reign, 

And share Thy kingdom's happiness ! 


A feeble race, by passion driv( 

In darkness and in doubt we roam, 

And lift our anxious eyes to Heaven, 
Our hope, our harbour, and our home. 

[94 1^^^^ Book of Praise. 

Yet, 'mid the wild and wintry gale, 
When death rides darkly o'er the sea, 

And strength and earthly daring fail, 
Our prayers, Redeemer ! rest on Thee. 

Come, Jesus, come ! and as of yore 
The prophet went to clear Thy way, 

A harbinger Thy feet before, 

A dawning to Thy brighter day ; 

So now may grace, with heavenly shower. 
Our stony hearts for truth prepare ; 

Sow in our souls the seed of power. 

Then come, and reap Thy harvest there ! 

Bishop Reginald Heber. 1 8i i 


O Spirit of the living God ! 

In all Thy plenitude of grace, 
Where'er the foot of man hath trod, 

Descend on our apostate race ! 

Give tongues of fire and hearts of love 
To preach the reconciling word ; 

Give power and unction from above, 
Whene'er the joyful sound is heard. 

Be darkness, at Thy coming, Light ; 

Confusion, order in Thy path ; 
Souls without strength inspire with might ^ 

Bid mercy triumph over wrath. 

O Spirit of the Lord ! prepare 

All the round earth her God to meet ; 

Breathe Thou abroad like morning air. 
Till hearts of stone begin to beat. 

" Thy Kingdom comer 195 

Baptize the nations far and nigh ; 

The triumphs of Thy Cross record ; 
The name of Jesus glorify, 

Till every kindred call Him Lord. 

James Montgo7ne7y. 1825. 


Speed Thy servants, Saviour, speed them ! 

Thou art Lord of winds and waves : 
They were bound, but Thou hast freed them ; 

NofVv they go to free the slaves : 
Be Thou with them ! 

'Tis Thine arm alone that saves. 

Friends and home and all forsaking, 
Lord ! they go, at Thy command ; 

As their stay Thy promise taking, 
While they traverse sea and land : 

O be with them ! 
Lead them safely by the hand ! 

Speed them through the mighty ocean, 

In the dark and stormy day. 
When the waves in wild commotion 

Fill all others with dismay : 
Be Thou with them ! 

Drive their terrors far away. 

Wlien they reach the land of strangers. 

And the prospect dark appears. 
Nothing seen but toils and dangers. 
Nothing felt but doubts and fears ; 

Be Thou with them ! 
Hear their sighs, and count their tears. 
o 2 

196 The Book of Praise. 

When they think of home, now dearer 

Than it ever seem'd before, 
Bring the promised glory nearer ; 

Let them see that peaceful shore, 
Where Thy people 

Rest from toil, and weep no more ! 

Where no fruit appears to cheer them, 

And they seem to toil in vain, 
Then in mercy, Lord, draw near them, 

Then their sinking hopes sustain : 
Thus supported. 

Let their zeal revive again ! 

In the midst of opposition 

Let them trust, O Lord, in Thee : 

When success attends their mission, 
Let Thy servants humbler be : 

Never leave them, 
Till Thy face in Heaven they see ; 

There to reap, in joy for ever, 

Fruit that grows from seed here sown ; 
There to be with Him, Who never 
Ceases to preserve His own. 

And with triumph 
Sing a Saviour's grace alone ! 

Thomas Kelly. 1836. 

Thy Kingdom comer i97 


Thou, Whose Almighty word 
Chaos and darkness heard, 

And took their flight ; 
Hear us, we humbly pray ; 
And, where the gospel's day 
Sheds not its glorious ray. 

Let there be light ! 

Thou, Who didst come to bring 
On Thy redeeming wing 

Heahng and sight, 
Health to the sick in mind, 
Sight to the inly blind. 
Oh, now to all mankind 

Let there be light ! 

Spirit of truth and love, 
Life-giving, holy Dove, 

Speed forth Thy flight ! 
Move on the waters' face 
Bearing the lamp of grace, 
And in earth's darkest place 

Let there be light ! 

Holy and blessed Three, 
Glorious Trinity, 

Wisdom, Love, Might ! 
Boundless as ocean's tide 
Rolling in fullest pride. 
Through the earth, far and wide. 

Let there be light ! 

Jolm Marriott. 1816. 

198 The Book of Pi^aise. 



Thy will be done, in earth, as it is in Heaven. 

Come, my soul, Thy suit prepare ; 
Jesus loves to answer prayer : 
He Himself has bid thee pray, 
Therefore will not say thee nay. 

Thou art coming to a King, 
Large petitions with thee bring ; 
For his grace and power are such. 
None can ever ask too much. 

With my burden I begin ; 
Lord, remove this load of sin ; 
Let Thy blood, for sinners spilt. 
Set my conscience free from guilt. 

Lord, I come to Thee for rest ; 
Take possession of my breast ; 
There Thy blood-bought right maintain, 
And without a rival reign. 

As the image in the glass 
Answers the beholder's face. 
Thus unto my heart appear. 
Print Thine own resemblance there. 

While I am a pilgrim here, 

Let Thy love my spirit cheer ; 

As my Guide, my Guard, my Friend, 

Lead me to my journey's end. 

" Thy Will be doner 199 

Shew me what I have to do ; 
Every hour my strength renew ; 
Let me Hve a Hfe of faith ; 
Let me die Thy people's death. 

John Newton. 1 779. 


My faith looks up to Thee, 
Thou Lamb of Calvary, 

Saviour divine ! 
Now hear me while I pray ; 
Take all my guilt away ; 
O let me from tliis day 

Be wholly Thine ! 

May Thy rich grace impart 
Strength to my fainting heart, 

My zeal inspire ! 
As Thou hast died for me, 
O may my love to Thee 
Pure, warm, and changeless be, 

A living fire ! 

While life's dark maze I tread, 
And griefs around me spread, 

Be Thou my Guide ! 
Bid darkness turn to day, 
Wipe sorrow's tears away. 
Nor let me ever stray 

From Thee aside. 

200 The Book of Praise. 

When ends life's transient dream,^ 
When death's cold sullen stream 

Shall o'er me roll ; 
Blest Saviour ! then in love 
Fear and distrust remove ; 
O bear me safe above, 

A ransom'd soul ! 

Ray Pahner. [1834.] 


Psalm CXVI. 

Redeem'd from guilt, redeem'd from fears. 
My soul enlarged, and dried my tears. 
What can I do, O Love Divine, 
What, to repay such gifts as Thine ? 

What can I do, so poor, so weak, 
But from Thy hands new blessings seek, 
A heart to feel Thy mercies more, 
A soul to know Thee, and adore ? 

O teach me at Thy feet to fall. 
And yield Thee up myself, my all ! 
Before Thy saints my debts to own. 
And live and die to Thee alone ! 

Thy Spirit, Lord, at large impart, 
Expand and raise and fill my heart ! 
So may I hope my life shall be 
Some faint return, O Lord, to Thee. 

Hemy Francis Lyte. 1834. 

" Thy Will be done': 201 


Psalm CI. 

Lord, when I lift my voice to Thee, 

To whom all praise belongs, 
Thy justice and Thy love shall be 

The subject of my songs. 

Let wisdom o'er my heart preside, 

To lead my steps aright, 
And make Thy perfect law my guide, 

Thy service my delight. 

All sinful ways I will abhor. 

All wicked men forsake ; 
And only those, who love Thy law. 

For my companions take. 

Lord ! that I may not go astray, 

Thy constant grace impart : 
When wilt Thou come to point my way, 

And fix my roving heart ? 

William Hi ley Bath urst. 1 83 1 . 


Forth in Thy Name, O Lord, I go. 

My daily labour to pursue, 
Thee, only Thee, resolved to know, 

In all I think, or speak, or do. 

The task Thy wisdom hath assign'd 

O let me cheerfully fulfil ; 
In all my works Thy presence find. 

And prove Thine acceptable will. 

202 Ike Book of Praise. 

Preserve me from my calling s snare, 
And hide my simple heart above, 

Above the thorns of choking care, 
The gilded baits of worldly love. 

Thee may I set at my right hand, 

Whose eyes mine inmost substance see, 

And labour on at Thy command. 
And offer all my works to Thee. 

Give me to bear Thy easy yoke, 
And every moment watch and pray ; 

And still to things eternal look, 
And hasten to Thy glorious day. 

For Thee delightfully employ 

Whate'er Thy bounteous grace hath given, 
And run my course with even joy. 

And closely walk with Thee to Heaven. 
Charles Wesley. 1749. 


Now it belongs not to my care 

Whether I die or hve ; 
To love and serve Thee is my share. 

And this Thy grace must give. 

If death shall bruise this springing seed 

Before it come to fruit. 
The will with Thee goes for the deed, 

Thy life was in the root. 

Would I long bear my heavy load, 
And keep my sorrows long ? 

Would I long sin against my God, 
And His dear mercy wrong 1 

" Thy Will be doner 203 

How much is sinful flesh my foe, 

That doth my soul pervert 
To linger here in sin and woe, 

And steals from God my heart ! 

Christ leads me through no darker rooms 

Than He went through before ; 
He that unto God's Kingdom comes 

Must enter by this door. 

Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet 

Thy blessed face to see ; 
For, if Thy work on earth be sweet, 

What will Thy glory be ? 

Then I shall end my sad complaints, 

And weary sinful days, 
And join with the triumphant saints 

That sing Jehovah's praise. 

My knowledge of that life is small ; 

The eye of faith is dim ; 
But it's enough that Christ knows all, 

And I shall be with Him. 

Richard Baxter. 1681. 


O Thou, who camest from above, 
The pure celestial fire to impart, 

Kindle a flame of sacred love 
On the mean altar of my heart.. 

204 The Book of Praise. 

There let it for Thy glory burn 

With inextinguishable blaze ; 
And, trembling, to its source return, 

In humble prayer and fervent praise. 

Jesus ! confirm my heart's desire 

To work, and speak, and think for Thee ; 

Still let me guard the holy fire ; 
And still stir up Thy gift in me ; 

Ready for all Thy perfect will, 
My acts of faith and love repeat ; 

Till death Thy endless mercies seal, 
And make my sacrifice complete. 

Charles Wesley. 1762. 


Psalm XXXI. 

My spirit on Thy care, 
Blest Saviour, I recline ; 
Thou wilt not leave me to despair, 
For Thou art Love divine. 

In Thee I place my trust, 
On Thee I calmly rest ; 
1 know Thee good, I know Thee just, 
And count Thy choice the best. 

Whate'er events betide. 
Thy will they all perform ; 
Safe in Thy breast my head I hide. 
Nor fear the coming storm. 

" Thy Will be doner 205 

Let good or ill befal, 
It must be good for me ; 
Secure of having Thee in all, 
Of having all in Thee. 

Henry Francis Lyte. 1 834, 


Blest be Thy love, dear Lord, 
That taught us this sweet way, 
Only to love Thee for Thyself, 
And for that love obey. 

O Thou, our souls' chief hope ! 
We to Thy mercy fly ; 
Where'er we are, Thou canst protect, 
Whate'er we need, supply. 

Whether we sleep or wake, 
To Thee we both resign ; 
By night we see, as well as day, 
If Thy light on us shine. 

Whether we live or die, 
Both we submit to Thee ; 
In death we live, as well as life, 
If Thine in death we be. 

John Austin. 1668. 


O Lord, my best desire fulfil, 

And help me to resign 
Life, health, and comfort to Thy will, 

And make Thy pleasure mine. 

2o6 The Book of Praise. 

Why should I shrink from Thy command, 
Whose love forbids my fears, 

Or tremble at the gracious hand 
That wipes away my tears ? 

No, rather let me freely yield 

What most I prize to Thee, 
Who never hast a good withheld, 

Or wilt withhold, from me. 

Thy favour, all my journey through, 

Thou art engaged to grant ; 
What else I want, or think I do, 

'Tis better still to want. 

But ah ! my inward spirit cries, 

Still bind me to Thy sway ! 
Else the next cloud that veils the skies. 

Drives all these thoughts away. 

William Cowper. 1779. 


O for an heart to praise my God, 
An heart from sin set free 1 

An heart that always feels Thy Blood, 
So freely spilt for me ! 

An heart resign'd, submissive, meek, 
My dear Redeemer's throne ; 

Where only Christ is heard to speak, 
Where Jesus reigns alone. 

An humble, lowly, contrite heart. 
Believing, true, and clean : 

Which neither life nor death can part 
From Him that dwells within : 

" Thy Will be doner 207 

An heart in every thought rencw'd, 

And full of love divine ; 
Perfect, and right, and pure, and good. 

A copy, Lord, of Thine. 

Thy nature, gracious Lord, impart ; 

Come quickly from above ; 
Write Thy new Name upon my heart, 

Thy new, best Name of Love. 

Charles Wesley. 1742. 


Oh what, if we are Christ's, 
Is earthly shame or loss t 
Bright shall the crown of glory be, 
When wfe have borne the cross. 

Keen was the trial once. 
Bitter the cup of woe, 
When martyrM saints, baptized in blood, 
Christ's sufferings shared below. 

Bright is their glory now. 
Boundless their joy above. 
Where, on the bosom of their God, 
They rest in perfect love. 

Lord ! may that grace be ours ; 
Like them in faith to bear 
All that of sorrow, grief, or pain, 
May be our portion here ! 

Enough, if Thou at last 
The word of blessing give, 
And let us rest beneath Thy feet, 
Where saints and angels live I 

2o8 The Book of Praise. ' 

All glory, Lord, to Thee, 
Whom Heaven and earth adore ; 
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 
One God for evermore. 

Sz'r He my Baker. [1852. 


My God and Father, while I stray 
Far from my home, on life's rough way, 

teach me from my heart to say. 

Thy will be done ! 

Though dark my path and sad my lot, 
Let me be still and murmur not. 
Or breathe the prayer divinely taught, 
Thy will be done ! 

What though in lonely grief I sigh : 
For friends beloved, no longer nigh, 
Submissive still would I reply, 
Thy will be done ! 

Though Thou hast call'd me to resign 
What most I prized, it ne'er was mine, 

1 have but yielded what was Thine ; 

Thy will be done ! 

Should grief or sickness waste away 
My life in premature decay. 
My Father ! still I strive to say. 
Thy will be done. 

Let but my fainting heart be blest 
With Thy sweet Spirit for its guest, 
My God, to Thee I leave the rest ; 
Thy will be done ! 

" Thy Will be doneV 209 

Renew my will from day to day ; 
Blend it with Thine ; and take away 
All that now makes it hard to say, 
Thy will be done ! 

Then, when on earth I breathe no more. 
The prayer, oft mix'd with tears before, 
I'll sing upon a happier shore, 
Thy will be done ! 

Charlotte Elliott. 1834. 


O Lord, Thy heavenly grace impart, 
And fix my frail inconstant heart ; 
Henceforth my chief desire shall be 
To dedicate myself to Thee, 

To Thee, my God, to Thee ! 

Whate'er pursuits my time employ, 
One thought shall fill my soul with joy ; 
That silent, secret thought shall be. 
That all my hopes are fix'd on Thee, 
On Thee, my God, on Thee ! 

Thy glorious eye pervadeth space ; 
Thou'rt present. Lord, in every place ; 
And, wheresoe er my lot may be, 
Still shall my spirit cleave to Thee, 
To Thee, my God, to Thee ! 

Renouncing every worldly thing, 
Safe 'neath the covert of Thy wing, 
My sweetest thought henceforth shall be, 
That all I want I find in Thee, 
In Thee, my God, in Thee ! 

Mrs. Daniel Wilso7i. 1830. 
From John Frederic Oberlin. 

2 1 o The Book of Praise.. 

When I survey life's varied scene, 

Amid the darkest hours 
Sweet rays of comfort shine between, 

And thorns are mix'd with flowers. 

Lord, teach me to adore Thy hand, 
From whence my comforts flow, 
And let me in this desert land 
A glimpse of Canaan know. 

And ! whate'er of earthly bliss 

Thy sovereign hand denies, 
Accepted at Thy throne of grace 

Let this petition rise : 

Give me a calm, a thankful heart. 

From every murmur free ; 
The blessings of Thy grace impart, 

And let me live to Thee. 

Let the sweet hope, that Thou art mine. 

My path of life attend. 
Thy presence through my journey shine, 

And bless its happy end ! 

A nne Steele, 1 760. 

" Thy Will be do?iel" 2 1 1 


Father of Love, our Guide and Friend, 

Oh lead us gently on, 
Until life's trial-time shall end, 

And heavenly peace be won ! 
We know not what the path may be 

As yet by us untrod ; 
But we can trust our all to Thee, 

Our Father and our God ! 

If call'd, like Abraham's child, to climb 

The hill of sacrifice. 
Some angel may be there in time ; 

Deliverance shall arise : 
Or, if some darker lot be good, 

Oh, teach us to endure 
The sorrow, pain, or solitn.ide, 

That make the spirit pure ! 

Christ by no flowery pathway came ; 

And we, His followers here, 
Must do Thy will and praise Thy Name, 

In hope, and love, and fear. 
And, till in Heaven we sinless bow, 

And faultless anthems raise, 
O Father, Son, and Spirit, now 

Accept our feeble praise ! 

William Josiah Irons. 1853. 

212 The Book of Praise. 


Thy way, not mine, O Lord, 

However dark it be ! 
Lead me by Thine own hand. 

Choose out the path for me. 

Smooth let it be or rough. 

It will be still the best ; 
Winding or straight, it leads 

Right onward to Thy rest. 

I dare not choose my lot ; 

I would not, if I might ; 
Choose Thou for me, my God ; 

So shall I walk aright. 

The kingdom that I seek 

Is Thine ; so let the way 
That leads to it be Thine ; 

Else I must surely stray. 

Take Thou my cup, and it 

With joy or sorrow fill, 
As best to Thee may seem ; 

Choose Thou my good and ill ; 

Choose Thou for me my friends. 

My sickness or my health ; 
Choose Thou my cares for me, 

My poverty or wealth. 

Not mine, not mine the choice, 

In things or great or small ; 
Be Thou my guide, my strength, 

My wisdom, and my all ! 

Ho7'atius Bonar. 1856. 

Thy Will be doner 213 


Father, I know that all my life 

Is portion'd out for me, 
And the changes that are sure to come 

I do not fear to see ; 
])Ut I ask Thee for a present rnind, 

I ask Thee for a thoughtful love. 
Through constant watching wise, 

To meet the glad with joyful smiles 
And wipe the weeping ej^es ; 

And a heart at leisure from itself, 
To soothe and sympathize. 

I would not have the restless will 

That hurries to and fro ; 
Seeking for some great thing to do. 

Or secret thing to know : 
I would be treated as a child. 

And guided where I go. 

Wherever in the world I am. 

In whatsoe'er estate, 
I have a fellowship with hearts 

To keep and cultivate, 
And a work of lowly love to do, 

For the Lord on whom I wait. 

So I ask Thee for the daily strength 

To none that ask denied. 
And a mind to blend with outward life, 

While keeping at Thy side ; 
Content to fill a little space. 

If Thou be glorified. 

214 The Book of Praise. 

And if some things I do not ask 
In my cup of blessing be, 

I would have my spirit fiU'd the more 
With grateful love to Thee ; 

More careful, not to serve Thee much, 
But to please Thee perfectly. 

There are briars besetting every path, 

That call for patient care ; 
There is a cross in every lot, 

And an earnest need for prayer ; 
But a lowly heart, that leans on Thee, 

Is happy anywhere. 

In a service which Thy will appoints 

There are no bonds for me ; 
For my inmost heart is taught the Truth 

That makes Thy children free ; 
And a life of self-renouncing love 

Is a life of hberty. 

Anna Laititia Wa?'ing. 1850 — 1860. 


Psalm CXXXI. 

Quiet, Lord, my froward heart, 
Make me teachable and mild, 

Upright, simple, free from art. 
Make me as a weaned child. 

From distrust and envy free, 

Pleased with all that pleases Thee 

'' Thy Will be done:' 215 

What Thou shalt to-day provide, 

Let me as a child receive ; 
What to-morrow may betide 

Calmly to thy wisdom leave : 
'Tis enough that Thou Avilt care ; 
Why should I the burden bear ? 

As a little child relies 

On a care beyond his own, 
Knows he's neither strong nor wise, 

Fears to stir a step alone ; 
Let me thus with Thee abide, 
As my Father, Guard, and Guide. 

Thus, preserv'd from Satan's wiles, 
Safe from dangers, free from fears, 

May I live upon Thy smiles 
Till the promised hour appears. 

When the sons of God shall prove 

All their Father's boundless love ! 

John Newtoft. 1779. 


Psalm CXXXL 

Jesus, cast a look on me ; 
Give me sweet simplicity. 
Make me poor and keep me low, 
Seeking only Thee to know ; 

Weaned from my lordly self 
Weaned from the miser's pelf, 
Weaned from the scorner's ways. 
Weaned from the lust of praise. 

2i6 The Book of Praise. 

All that feeds my busy pride, 
Cast it evermore aside ; 
Bid my will to Thine submit ; 
Lay me humbly at Thy feet. 

Make me like a little child. 
Of my strength and wisdom spoil'd, 
Seeing only in Thy light, 
Walking only in Thy might. 

Leaning on Thy loving breast, 
Where a weary soul may rest ; 
Feeling well the peace of God 
Flowing from Thy precious Blood ! 

In this posture let me hve. 
And hosannas daily give ; 
In this temper let me die, 
And hosannas ever cry ! 

JoJui Bejridge. 1785. 


Lord, I feel a carnal mind 
That hangs about me still, 

Vainly though I strive to bind 
My own rebellious will ; 

Is not haughtiness of heart 
The gulph between my God and me ? 

Meek Redeemer ! now impart 
Thine own humility ! 

" Thy Will be dofier 217 

Fain would I my Lord pursue, 

Be all my Saviour taught, 
Do as Jesus bade me do. 

And think as Jesus thought : 
But 'tis Thou must change my heart ; 
The perfect gift must come from Thee ; 
Meek Redeemer ! now impart 

Thine own humility ! 

Lord, I cannot, must not rest. 

Till I Thy mind obtain, 
Chase presumption from my breast, 

And all Thy mildness gain : 
Give me. Lord, Thy gentle heart ; 
Thy lowly mind my portion be : 
Meek Redeemer ! now impart 

Thine own humility ! 

Let Thy cross my will control ; 

Conform me to my Guide ! 
In the manger lay my soul, 

And crucify my pride ! 
Give me. Lord, a contrite heart, 
An heart that always looks to Thee : 
Meek Redeemer ! now impart 

Thine own humility ! 

Tear away my every boast ; 
My stubborn mind abase ; 
Saviour, fix my only trust 

In Thy redeeming grace ! 
Give me a submissive heart. 
From pride and self-dependence free ; 
Meek Redeemer ! now impart 
Thine own humility ! 

Aiigusttis Montague Top lady. 1759. 

2i8 The Book of Praise. 


Gracious Spirit, dwell with me ; 
I myself would gracious be, 
And with words that help and heal 
Would Thy life in mine reveal, 
And with actions bold and meek 
Would for Christ my Saviour speak. 

Truthful Spirit, dwell with me ; 
I myself would truthful be, 
And with wisdom kind and clear 
Let Thy life in mine appear, 
And with actions brotherly 
Speak my Lord's sincerity. 

Tender Spirit, dwell with me ; 
I myself would tender be. 
Shut my heart up like a flower 
At temptation's darksome hour, 
Open it when shines the sun, 
And His love by fragrance own. 

Silent Spirit, dwell with me ; 

I myself would quiet be, 

Quiet as the growing blade 

Which through earth its way has made. 

Silently, like morning light, 

Putting mists and chills to flight. 

Mighty Spirit, dwell with me ; 
I myself would mighty be, 
Mighty so as to prevail 
Where unaided man must fail, 
Ever by a mighty hope 
Pressing on and bearing up. 

" Thy Will be done 219 

Holy Spirit, dwell with me ; 

I myself would holy be ; 

Separate from sin, I would 

Choose and cherish all things good, 

And whatever I can be 

Give to Him, who gave me Thee ! 

Thomas Toke Lyncli. 1855. 


Matt. V. 3 — 10. 

There is a dwelling-place above ; 
Thither, to meet the God of love, 

The poor in spirit go ; 
There is a paradise of rest ; 
For contrite hearts and souls distrest 

Its streams of comfort flow. 

There is a goodly heritage, 

Where earthly passions cease to rage ; 

The meek that haven gain : 
There is a board, where they Avho pine, 
Hungry, athirst, for grace divine, 

May feast, nor crave again. 

There is a voice to mercy tnie ; 
To them who mercy's path pursue 

That voice shall bliss impart ; 
There is a sight from man concealed ; 
That sight, the face of God revealed ; 

Shall bless the pure in heart. 

220 The Book of P^^aise. 

There is a name, in heaven bestow' d ; 
That name, which hails them sons of God, 

The friends of peace shall know : 
There is a kingdom in the sky. 
Where they shall reign with God on high, 

Who serve Him best below. 

Lord ! be it mine like them to choose 
The better part, like them to use 

The means Thy love hath given ! 
Be holiness my aim on earth, 
That death be welcomed as a birth 

To life and bliss in Heaven ! 

Bishop Richard Mant. 1 83 1 , 

Matthew V. 3 — 10. 

Blest are the humble souls that see 
Their emptiness and poverty ; 
Treasures of grace to them are given, 
And crowns of joy laid up in Heaven. 

Blest are the men of broken heart 
Who mourn for sin with inward smart ; 
The Blood of Christ divinely .flows, 
A healing balm for all their woes. 

Blest are the meek, who stand afar 
From rage and passion, noise and war ; 
God will secure their happy state. 
And plead their cause against the great. 

" Thy Will be doner 221 

Blest are the souls that thirst for grace, 
Hunger and long for righteousness ; 
They shall be well supplied and fed 
With living streams and living bread. 

Blest are the men whose bowels move 
And melt with sympathy and lo\'e ; 
From Christ the Lord shall they obtain 
Like sympathy and love again. 

Blest are the pure, whose hearts are clean 
From the defiling power of sin ; 
With endless pleasure they shall see 
A God of spotless purity. 

Blest are the men of peaceful life. 
Who quench the coals of growing strife ; 
They shall be call'd the heirs of bliss, 
The sons of God, the God of peace. 

Blest are the sufferers, who partake 
Of pain and shame for Jesus' sake ; 
Their souls shall triumph in the Lord, 
Glory and joy are their reward. 

Isaac Watts, lyog. 

222 The Book of Praise. 



Lord of my life, whose tender care 

Hath led me on till now, 
Here lowly at the hour of prayer 

Before Thy throne I bow ; 
I bless Thy gracious hand, and pray 
Forgiveness for another day. 

Oh ! may I daily, hourly, strive 

In heavenly grace to gro^y ; 
To Thee and to Thy glory live, 

Dead else to all below ; 
Tread in the path my Saviour trod, 
Though thorny, yet the path to God ! 

With prayer my humble praise I bring 

For mercies day by day ; 
Lord, teach my heart Thy love to sing, 

Lord, teach me how to pray ! 
All that I have, I am, to Thee 
I offer through Eternity ! 

Anon, [1853.] 


Lord, in the day Thou art about 
The paths wherein I tread ; 

And in the night, when I lie down, 
Thou art about my bed. 

'"'■Give us this day our Daily BreadT 223 

While others in God's prisons He, 

Bound with affliction's chain, 
I walk at large, secure and free 

From sickness and from pain. 

'Tis Thou dost crown my hopes and plans 

With good success each day ; 
This crown, together with myself, 

At Thy blest feet I lay. 

O let my house a temple be. 
That I and mine may sing 
Hosanna to Thy Majesty, 
And praise our heavenly King! 
Cento by John Hampden Gnt'ney. 1838 — 1851. 
From John Mason. 1683. 


Shine on our souls, eternal God, 
With rays of beauty shine ! 

O let Thy favour crown our days, 
And all their round be thine ! 

Did we not raise our hands to Thee, 
Our hands might toil in vain ; 

Small joy success itself could give, 
If Thou Thy love restrain. 

With Thee let every week begin, 
With Thee each day be spent ; 

For Thee each fleeting hour improv'd. 
Since each by Thee is lent. 

224 The Book of Praise. 

Thus cheer us through this desert road, 

Till all our labours cease, 
And Heaven refresh our weary souls 

With everlasting peace ! 

Philip Doddridge. 1755. 


O how kindly hast Thou led me, 

Heavenly Father, day by day ! 
Found my dwelling, clothed and fed me, 

Furnish'd friends to cheer my way ! 
Didst Thou bless me, didst Thou chasten, 

With Thy smile, or with Thy rod, 
'Twas that still my step might hasten 

Homeward, heavenward, to my God ! 

O how slowly have I often 

Follow'd where Thy hand would draw ! 
How Thy kindness fail'd to soften ! 

How Thy chastening fail'd to awe ! 
Make me for Thy rest more ready 

As Thy path is longer trod ; 
Keep me in Thy friendship steady, 

Till Thou call me home, my God ! 

Thomas Gr infield. 1836. 


Heavenly Father, to Whose eye 
Future things unfolded lie, 
Through the desert where I stray. 
Let Thy counsels guide my way. 

" Give us this day our Daily Breads 225 

Lord, uphold me day by day ; 
Shed a hght upon my way ; 
Guide me through perplexing snares ; 
Care for me in all my cares. 

All I ask for is, enough ; 
Only, when the way is rough, 
Let Thy rod and staff impart 
Strength and courage to my heart. 

Should Thy wisdom, Lord, decree . 
Trials long and sharp for me, 
Pain or sorrow, care or shame, 
Father ! glorify Thy Name ! 

Let me neither faint nor fear. 
Feeling still that Thou art near, 
In the course my Saviour trod. 
Tending still to Thee, my God. 

Josiah Coitder. 1837. 


Sovereign Ruler of the skies. 
Ever gracious, ever wise. 
All my times are in Thy hand, 
Ail events at Thy command. 

His decree, who form'd the earth, 
Fix'd my first and second birth ; 
Parents, native place, and time, 
All appointed were by Him. 

226 The Book of Praise. 

He that form'd me in the womb, 
He shall guide me to the tomb ; 
All my times shall ever be 
Order d by His wise decree; 

Times of sickness, times of health, 
Times of penury and wealth ; 
Times of trial and of grief, 
Times of triumph and relief; 

Times the Tempter s power to prove, 
Times to taste a Saviour's love ; 
All must come, and last, and end, 
As shall please my heavenly Friend. 

Plagues and deaths around me fly ; 
Till He bids, I cannot die : 
Not a single shaft can hit 
Till the God of love sees fit. 

Thou Gracious, Wise, and Just ! 
In Thy hands my life I trust : 
Have I something dearer still ? 

1 resign it to Thy will. 

May I always own Thy hand ; 
Still to the surrender stand ; 
Know, that Thou art God alone ; 
I and mine are all Thy own. 

Thee at all times will I bless ; 
Having Thee, I all possess ; 
How can I bereaved be, 
Since I cannot part with Thee ? 

John Ryland. ITTJ, 

" Give us this day our Daily B?rad''' 227 


Lord, I would delight in Thee, 
And on Thy care depend ; 

To Thee in every trouble flee, 
My best, my only Friend. 

When all created streams are dried, 

Thy fulness is the same ; 
May I with this be satisfied. 

And glory in Thy Name ! 

Why should the soul a drop bemoan. 

Who has a fountain near ; 
A fountain, which will ever run 

With waters sweet and clear ? 

No good in creatures can be found, 
But may be found in Thee ; 

1 must have all things, and abound, 
While God is God to me. 

Oh ! that I had a stronger faith. 

To look within the veil ! 
To credit what my Saviour saith. 

Whose word can never fail ! 

He that has made my heaven secure. 

Will here all good provide ; 
While Christ is rich, can I be poor ? 

What can I want beside ? 

O Lord, I cast my care on Thee ; 

I triumph and adore : 
Henceforth my great concern shall be 

To love and please Thee more. 

John Ry land. I'JTJ. 

228 The Book of Praise. 


How gentle God's commands, 
How kind His precepts are ! 
Come, cast your burdens on the Lord, 
And trust His constant care. 

While Providence supports, 
Let saints securely dwell ; 
That Hand, which bears all Nature up, 
Shall guide His children well 

Why should this anxious load 
Press down your weary mind ? 
Haste to your heavenly Fathei-'s throne, 
And sweet refreshment find. 

His goodness stands approved 
Down to the present day : 
I'll drop my burden at His feet, 
And bear a song away. 

Ph Hip Doddridge. 1755. 


O God of Bethel, by whose hand 

Thy people still are fed. 
Who through this weary pilgrimage 

Hast all our fathers led ; 

Our vows, our prayers, we now present 
Before Thy throne of grace ; 

God of our fathers ! be the God 
Of their succeeding race. 

Give us this day our Daily Breadr 229 

Through each perplexing path of hfe 
Our wandering footsteps guide ; 

Give us each day our daily bread, 
And raiment fit provide. 

O spread Thy covering wings around 

Till all our wanderings cease, 
And at our Father's loved abode 

Our souls arrive in peace ! 

Such blessings from Thy gracious hand 

Our humble prayers implore ; 
And Thou shalt be our chosen God, 
And portion evermore. 

Variation by John Logan, ijyo. 
Frojn Philip Doddridge. 1755. 


O King of earth, and air, and sea ! 
The hungry ravens cry to Thee ; 
To Thee the scaly tribes, that sweep 
The bosom of the boundless deep : 
To Thee the lions roaring call ; 
The common Father, kind to all : 
Then grant Thy servants. Lord, we pray, 
Our daily bread from day to day. 

The fishes may for food complain. 
The ravens spread their wings in vain, 
The roaring lions lack and pine ; 
But, God, Thou carest still for Thine : 
Thy bounteous hand with food can bless 
The bleak and lonely wilderness ; 
And Thou hast taught us. Lord, to pray 
For daily bread from day to day. 

230 The Book of Praise. 

And oh ! when through the wilds we roam 
That part us from our heavenly home ; 
When, lost in danger, want, and woe, 
Our faithless tears begin to flow ; 
Do Thou the gracious comfort give, 
By which alone the soul may live ; 
And grant Thy servants, Lord, we pray, 
The bread of life from day to day ! 

Bish op Reginald Heber. 1827. 


Jesus, the Shepherd of the sheep, 

Thy little flock in safety keep. 

The flock for which Thou cam'st from Heaven, 

The flock for which Thy life was given. 

Thou saw'st them wandering far from Thee 
Secure, as if from danger free ; 
Thy love did all their wanderings trace, 
And brought them to a wealthy place. 

O guard Thy sheep from beasts of prey, 
And guide them that they never stray ; 
Cherish the young, sustain the old, 
Let none be feeble in Thy fold ! 

Secure them from the scorching beam, 
And lead them to the living stream ; 
In verdant pastures let them lie, 
And watch them with a Shepherd's eye ! 

Oh, may Thy sheep discern Thy voice. 
And in its sacred sound rejoice ; 
From strangers may they ever flee, 
And know no other guide but Thee ! 

" Give us this day our Daily BrcadV 23 1 

Lord, bring Thy sheep that wander yet, 
And let the number be complete : 
Then let Thy flock from earth remove, 
And occupy the fold above. 

Thomas Kelly. 1 804- 1 836. 


Psalm XXIII. 
The Lord my pasture shall prepare. 
And feed me with a Shepherd's care ; 
His presence shall my wants supply, 
And guard me with a watchful eye ; 
My noon-day walks He shall attend, 
And all my midnight hours defend. 

When in the sultry glebe I faint. 
Or on the thirsty mountain pant. 
To fertile vales and dewy meads 
My weaiy, wandering steps He leads. 
Where peaceful rivers, soft and slow, 
Amid the verdant landscape flow. 

Though in the paths of death I tread. 
With gloomy horrors overspread. 
My stedfast heart shall fear no ill. 
For Thou, O Lord, art with me still ; 
Thy friendly crook shall give me aid. 
And guide me through the dreadful shade. 

Though in a bare and rugged way, 
Through devious lonely wilds I stray, 
Thy bounty shall my wants beguile ; 
The barren wilderness shall smile 
With sudden greens and herbage crown'd, 
And streams shall murmur all around. 

Joseph Addison. \']2%. 

232 The Book of Praise. 


Psalm XXIII. 

My Shepherd will supply my need, 

Jehovah is His Name ; 
In pastures fresh He makes me feed 

Beside the living stream. 

He brings my wandering spirit back 

When I forsake His ways, 
And leads me, for His mercy's sake, 

In paths of truth and grace. 

When I walk through the shades of death, 

Thy presence is my stay : 
A word of Thy supporting breath 

Drives all my fears away. 

Thy hand, in spite of all my foes, 

Doth still my table spread ; 
My cup with blessings overflows, 

Thine oil anoints my head. 

The sure provisions of my God 

Attend me all my days ; 
O may Thy house be mine abode, 

And all m.y work be praise ! 

There would I find a settled rest, 

W^hile others go and come ; 
No more a stranger or a guest, 

But like a child at home. 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 

" Give lis this day our Daily Bread]'' 233 


Psalm XXIII. 

The Lord my Shepherd is, 
I shall be well supplied ; 
Since He is mine, and I am His, 
What can I want beside ? 

He leads me to the place 
Where heavenly pasture grows, 
Where living waters gently pass, 
And full salvation flows. 

If e'er I go astray. 
He doth my soul reclaim. 
And guides me in His own right way 
For His most holy Name. 

While He affords His aid, 
I cannot yield to fear ; 
Though I should walk through death's dark shade, 
My Shepherd's with me there. 

In spite of all my foes 
Thou dost my table spread ; 
My cup with blessings overflows, 
And joy exalts my head. 

The bounties of Thy love 
Shall crown my following days ; 
Nor from Thy house will I remove. 
Nor cease to speak Thy praise. 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 

^34 The Book of Praise. 



And forgive us our trespasses ; as "we forgive them that 
trespass against ns^ 


Approach, my soul, the mercy -seat 

Where Jesus answers prayer ; 
There humbly fall before His feet, 

For none can perish there. 

Thy promise is my only plea, 

With this I venture nigh ; 
Thou callest burden'd souls to Thee, 

And such, 

Bow'd down beneath a load of sin, 

By Satan sorely prest, 
By war without, and fears within, 

I come to Thee for rest. 

Be Thou my shield and hiding-place, 

That, shelter'd near Thy side, 
T may my fierce accuser face, 

And tell him, Thou hast died ! 

O wondrous love ! to bleed and die, 

To bear the cross and shame, 
That guilty sinners, such as I, 

Might plead Thy gracious Name ! 

John Newton. 1779. 

And forgive us our Trespasses T 235 


Almighty God, Thy piercing eye 

Strikes through the shades of night ; 

And our most secret actions he 
All open to Thy sight. 

There's not a sin that we commit, 

Nor wicked word we say, 
But in Thy dreadful book 'tis writ 

Against the judgment-day. 

And must the crimes that I have done 

Be read and publish' d there, 
Be all expos'd before the sun, 

While men and angels hear ? 

Lord ! at Thy foot ashamed I lie, 

Upward I dare not look ; 
Pardon my sins before I die, 

And blot them from Thy book ! 

Remember all the dying pains 

That my Redeemer felt, 
And let His Blood wash out my stains, 

And answer for my guilt ! 

Isaac Waifs. 1720. 


Mercy alone can meet my case ; 

For mercy. Lord, I cry : 
Jesus ! Redeemer ! show Thy face 

In mercy, or I die. 

236 The Book of Praise. 

Save me, for none beside can save ; 

At Thy command I tread 
With faihng step hfe's stormy wave ; 

The wave goes o'er my head. 

I perish, and my doom were just ; 

But wilt Thou leave me ? No : 
I hold Thee fast, my hope, my trust ; 

I will not let Thee go ! 

Still sure to me Thy promise stands, 

And ever must abide ; 
Behold it written on Thy hands. 

And graven in Thy side ! 

To this, this only, will I cleave ; 

Thy word is all my plea ; 
Thy word is truth, and I believe : 

Have mercy. Lord, on me ! 

James Mo7itgomery. 1825. 


O Jesus, Saviour of the lost. 
My Rock and Hiding-place, 

By storms of sin and sorrow tost, 
I seek Thy sheltering grace. 

Guilty, forgive me. Lord ! I ciy ; 

Pursued by foes I come ; 
A sinner, save me, or I die ; 

An outcast, take me home; 

Once safe in Thine almighty arms, 
Let storms come on amain ; 

There danger never, never harms ; 
There death itself is gain. 

" And forgive us our Trespasses:' 237 

And when I stand before Thy throne, 

And all Thy glory see, 
Still be my righteousness alone 

To hide myself in Thee. 

Edward Henry Bicker steth. 1 85 8. 


WTien at Thy footstool. Lord, I bend, 
And plead with Thee for mercy there, 

Think of the sinner's dying friend, 
And for His sake receive my prayer. 

O think not of my shame and guilt. 
My thousand stains of deepest dye ; 

Think of the blood which Jesus spilt, 
And let that blood my pardon buy. 

Think, Lord, how I am still Thy own, 
The trembling creature of Thy hand ; 

Think how my heart to sin is prone. 
And what temptations round me stand. 

O think upon Thy holy word. 

And every plighted promise there ; 

How prayer should evermore be heard, 
And how Thy glory is to spare. 

O think not of my doubts and fears. 
My strivings with Thy grace Divine : 

Think upon Jesus' woes and tears, 
And let His merits stand for mine. 

Thine eye. Thine ear, they arc not dull ; 

Thine arm can never shorten'd be ; 
Behold me here ; my heart is full ; 

Behold, and spare, and succour me ! 

Hc7iry Francis Lytc. 1833 

238 The Book of Praise. 

As o'er the past my memory strays, 

Why heaves the secret sigh ? 
'Tis that I mourn departed days, 

Still unprepared to die. 

The world, and worldly things beloved, 
My anxious thoughts .employed, 

And time unhallow'd, unimproved, 
Presents a fearful void. 

Yet, holy Father, wild despair 
Chase from my labouring breast ! 

Thy grace it is, which prompts the prayer ; 
That grace can do the rest. 

My life's brief remnant all be Thine I 

And, when Thy sure decree 
Bids me this fleeting breath resign, 

O, speed my soul to Thee ! 
Bishop Thomas Fatishaw Middloton. [1831, 

Forth from the dark and stormy sky. 
Lord ! to Thine altar's shade we fly : 
Forth from the world, its hope and fear. 
Saviour ! we seek Thy shelter here : 
Weary and weak. Thy grace we pray : 
Turn not, O Lord, Thy guests away ! 

Long have we roam'd in want and pain ; 
Long have we sought Thy rest in vain ; 
Wilder'd in doubt, in darkness lost, 
Long have our souls been tempest-tost : 
Low at Thy feet our sins we lay ; 
Turn not, O Lord, Thy guests away ! 

Bishop Reginald Heber. 1827. 

" And foi'give its our Tix'spasses'^ 239 


O Lord, turn not Thy face away 

From them that lowly lie, 
Lamenting sore their sinful life 

With tears and bitter cry : 
Thy mercy-gates are open wide 

To them that mourn their sin ; 
O shut them not against us, Lord, 

But let us enter in. 

We need not to confess our fault, 

For surely Thou canst tell ; 
What we have done, and what we are, 

Thou knowest very well ; 
Wherefore, to beg and to entreat, 

With tears we come to Thee, 
As children that have done amiss 

Fall at their father's knee. 

And need we then, O Lord, repeat 

The blessing which we crave. 
When Thou dost know, before we speak. 

The thing that we would have ? 
Mercy, O Lord, mercy we ask. 

This is the total sum ; 
For mercy, Lord, is all our prayer ; 

O let Thy mercy come ! 

Variation by Bishop Reginald Hcbcr. 1827. 
From John Mardley. 1562. 

240 The Book of Praise. 




Lead us, heavenly Father, lead us 

O'er the world's tempestuous sea ; 
Guard us, guide us, keep us, feed us, 
For we have no help but Thee ; 
Yet possessing 
Every blessing, 
If our God our Father be. 

Saviour, breathe forgiveness o'er us ; 
All our weakness Thou dost know ; 
Thou didst tread this earth before us, 
Thou didst feel its keenest woe ; 
Lone and dreary. 
Faint and weary, 
Through the desert Thou didst go. 

Spirit of our God, descending. 

Fill our hearts with heavenly joy ; 
Love with every passion blending. 
Pleasure that can never cloy : 
Thus provided, 
Pardon'd, guided, 
Nothing can our peace destroy. 

James Ediueston. 1820. 

" Lead lis not i?iio Temptatiofir 241 


Jesu ! guide our way 

To eternal day ! 
So shall we, no more delaying, 
Follow Thee, Thy voice obeying ; 

Lead us by Thy hand 

To our Father s land ! 

When we danger meet, 

Stedfast make our feet ! 
Lord, preserve us uncomplaining 
'Mid the darkness round us reigning ! 

Through adversity 

Lies our way to Thee. 

Order all our way 
Through this mortal day ; 
In our toil with aid be near us ; 
In our need with succour cheer us ; 
When life's course is o'er, 
Open Thou the door ! 

A rthur Tozer Russell. 1 85 1 . 
From Louis, Coimt Zinzendorf. 


Star of morn and even, 
Sun of Heaven's heaven. 
Saviour high and dear. 
Toward us turn Thine ear ; 
Through whate'er may come, 
Thou canst lead us home, 


242 The Book of Praise. 

Though the gloom be grievous, 
Those we leant on leave us, 

Though the coward heart 

Quit its proper part, 

Though the Tempter come, 

Thou wilt lead us home. 

Saviour pure and holy, 
Lover of the lowly. 

Sign us with Thy sign, 

Take our hands in Thine, 

Take our hands and come. 

Lead Thy children home ! 

Star of morn and even. 
Shine on us from Heaven, 

From Thy glory-throne 

Hear Thy very own ! 

Lord and Saviour, come. 

Lead us to our home ! 

Francis Turner Palo-rave. 1862. 


O Thou, to whose all-searching sight 
The darkness shineth as the light. 
Search, prove my heart ; it pants for Thee 
O, burst these bands, and set it free ! 

Wash out its stains, refine its dross ; 
Nail my affections to the cross ; 
Hallow each thought ; let all within 
Be clean, as Thou, my Lord, art clean. 

^^ Lead 21s not into TemptationV 243 

If in this darksome wild I stray, 

Be Thou my Light, be Thou my Way ; 

No foes, no violence I fear, 

No fraud, while Thou, my God, art near. 

When rising floods my soul o'erflow. 
When sinks my heart in waves of woe, 
Jesu, Thy timely aid impart, 
And raise my head, and cheer my heart. 

Saviour ! where'er Thy steps I see. 
Dauntless, untired, I follow Thee : 
O let Thy hand support me still, 
And lead me to Thy holy hill ! 

If rough and thorny be the way. 
My strength proportion to my day ; 
Till toil, and grief, and pain shall cease 
Where all is calm and joy and peace. 

John Wesley. i739— 1743- 
From the German. 

Guide me, O Thou great Jehovah ! 

Pilgrim through this barren land ; 
I am weak, but Thou art mighty; 
Hold me with Thy powerful hand ! 
Bread of Heaven ! Bread of Heaven ! 
Feed me now and evermore ! 

Open now the crystal Fountain, 

Whence the healing streams do flow ; 
Let the fiery cloudy pillar 

Lead me all my journey through ; 
Strong Deliverer ! Strong Deliverer ! 
Be Thou still my Strength and Shield i 
R 2 

244 The Book of Praise. 

When I tread the verge of Jordan, 

Bid my anxious fears subside ; 
Death of death, and Hell's Destruction, 
Land me safe on Canaan's side ; 
Songs of praises. Songs of praises, 
I will ever give to Thee ! 

Willia7n Williams. 1774. 


Jesus ! lead us with Thy power 

Safe unto the promised Rest ; 
Hide our souls within Thy bosom ; 

Let us slumber on Thy breast ; 
Feed us with the heavenly manna, 

Bread that angels eat above ; 
Let us drink from the holy Fountain 

Draughts of everlasting Love ! 

Throughout the desert wild conduct us 

With a glorious pillar bright. 
In the day a cooling comfort, 

And a cheering fire by night ; 
Be our guide in every peril. 

Watch us hourly night and day ; 
Otherwise we'll err and wander 

From Thy Spirit far away. 

In Thy Presence we are happy ; 

In Thy Presence we're secure ; 
In Thy Presence all afflictions 

We will easily endure ; 
In Thy Presence we can conquer. 

We can suff"er, we can die ; 
Far from Thee, we faint and languish : 

Lord, our Saviour, keep us nigh ! 

William Williams. 1772. 

" Lead us ?iot into Temptation'' 245 


Psalm CXXI. 

Up to the hills I lift mine eyes, 
The eternal hills beyond the skies ; 
Thence all her help my soul derives, 
There my Almighty Refuge lives. 

He lives, the everlasting God, 
That built the vv-orld, that spread the flood ; 
The heavens with all their hosts He made. 
And the dark regions of the dead. 

He guides our feet, He guards our way ; 
His morning smiles bless all the day ; 
He spreads the evening veil, and keeps 
The silent hours while Israel sleeps. 

Israel, a name divinely blest, 
May rise secure, securely rest ; 
Thy holy Guardian's wakeful eyes 
Admit no slumber nor surprise. 

No sun shall smite thy head by day, 
Nor the pale moon with sickly ray 
Shall blast thy couch ; no baleful star 
Dart his malignant fire so far. 

Should earth and hell with malice burn, 
Still thou shalt go, and still return. 
Safe in the Lord ; His heavenly care 
Defends thy life from every snare. 

On thee foul spirits have no power ; 
And, in thy last departing hour, 
Angels, that trace the airy road. 
Shall bear thee homeward to thy God. 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 

246 The Book of Praise. 


Psalm CXXI. 

To Heaven I lift mine eye, 
To Heaven, Jehovah's throne, 
For there my Saviour sits on high, 
And thence shall strength and aid supply 
To all He calls His own. 

He will not faint nor fail. 

Nor cause thy feet to stray : 
For Him no wear}^ hours assail, 
Nor evening darkness spreads her veil 

O'er His eternal day. 

Beneath that light divine 

Securely shalt thou move ; 
The sun with milder beams shall shine, 
And eve's still queen her lamp incline 

Benignant from above. 

For He, thy God and Friend, 
Shall keep thy soul from harm. 
In each sad scene of doubt attend. 
And guide thy life, and bless thine end, 
With His Almighty arm. 

John Bowdler. 1814. 

Psalm XI. 

My trust is in the Lord, 

What foe can injure me ? 

Why bid me like a bird 

Before the fowler flee ? 
The Lord is on His heavenly throne, 
And He will shield and save His own. 

" But deliver 7isf?v??t EvilP 247 

The wicked may assail, 

,The Tempter sorely try, 

All earth's foundations fail, 

All nature's springs be dry ; 
Yet God is in His holy shrine, 
And I am strong while He is mine. 

His flock to Him is dear, 

He watches them from high ; 

He sends them trials here 

To form them for the sky ; 
But safely will He tend and keep 
The humblest, feeblest, of His sheep. 

His foes a season here 
. May triumph and prevail ; 
But ah ! the hour is near 
When all their hopes must fail ; 
While, like the sun, His saints shall rise, 
And shine with Him above the skies. 

Henry Fraiicis Lyte. 1834. 

Psalm XLVI. 

God is our Refuge, tried and proved, 

Amid a stormy world ; 
We will not fear, though earth be moved, 

And hills in ocean hurled. 

The waves may roar, the mountains shake, 

Our comforts shall not cease ; 
The Lord His saints will not forsake, 

The Lord will give us peace. 

24S The Book of Praise. 

A gentle stream of hope and love 

To us shall ever flow ; 
It issues from His throne above, 

It cheers His Church below. 

When earth and hell against us came, 
He spake, and quell'd their powers ; 

The Lord of hosts is still the same ; 
The God of grace is ours. 

Henry Francis Lyte. 1 834 


Psalm XCI. 

There is a safe and secret place 

Beneath the wings divine, 
Reserved for all the heirs of grace ; 

O, be that refuge mine ! 

The least and feeblest there may bide, 

Uninjured and unawed ; 
While thousands fall on every side, 

He rests secure in God. 

The angels watch him on his way, 
And aid with friendly arm ; 

And Satan, roaring for His prey. 
May hate, but cannot harm. 

He feeds in pastures large and fair 

Of love and truth divine : 
O child of God, O glory's heir, 

How rich a lot is thine ! 

" But deliver us fro7n EvilP 249 

A hand Almighty to defend, 

An ear for every call, 
An honour'd life, a peaceful end, 

And Heaven to crown it all ! 

Henry Francis Lyte. 1834. 


Oh help us, Lord ! each hour of need, 

Thy heavenly succour give ; 
Help us in thought, and word, and deed. 

Each hour on earth we live ! 

Oh, help us when our spirits bleed 

With contrite anguish sore ; 
And when our hearts are cold and dead, 

Oh, help us, Lord, the more ! 

Oh, help us, through the prayer of faith, 

More firmly to believe ; 
For still, the more the servant hath, 

The more shall he receive. 

If strangers to Thy fold w'e call. 

Imploring at Thy feet 
The crumbs that from Thy table fall, 

'Tis all we dare entreat. 

But be it. Lord of mercy, all. 
So Thou wilt grant but this : 

The crumbs that from Thy table fall 
Are light, and life, and bliss. 

250 The Book of Praise. 

Oh, help us, Jesus, from on high ! 

We know no help but Thee : 
Oh, help us so to live and die, 

As Thine in Heaven to be ! 

He7i ry Hart Mihnan. 1827. 


O Thou, from whom all goodness flows, 

I lift my heart to Thee ; 
In all my sorrows, conflicts, woes, 

Dear Lord, remember me ! 

When groaning on my burden'd heart 

My sins lie heavily, 
My pardon speak, new peace impart, 

In love remember me ! 

Temptations sore obstruct my way ; 

And ills I cannot flee : 
Oh, give me strength. Lord, as my day ; 

For good remember me ! 

Distrest in pain, disease, and grief. 

This feeble body see ! 
Grant patience, rest, and kind relief ; 

Hear, and remember me ! 

If on my face, for Thy dear Name, 

Shame and reproaches be ; 
All hail reproach, and welcome shame. 

If Thou remember me ! 

'''■But deliver us from EvilT 25 1 

The hour is near ; consign'd to death 

I own the just decree : 
" Saviour !" with my last parting breath, 

I'll cry, " RememlDer me !" 

Thomas Haiveis. 1 792. 


Jesu, lover of my soul, 

Let me to Thy bosom fly, 
While the nearer waters roll, 

While the tempest still is high ! 
Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, 

Till the storm of life is past, 
Safe into the haven guide ; 

O receive my soul at last ! 

Other refuge have I none ; 

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; 
Leave, ah ! leave me not alone. 

Still support and comfort me ! 
All my trust on Thee is stay'd. 

All my help from Thee I bring : 
Cover my defenceless head 

With the shadow of Thy wing ! 

Wilt Thou not regard my call ? 

Wilt Thou not accept my prayer ? 
Lo ! I sink, I faint, I fall ! 

Lo ! on Thee I cast my care ! 
Reach me out Thy gracious hand ! 

While I of Thy strength receive, 
Hoping against hope I stand, 

Dying, and behold I live ! 

252 The Book of Praise. 

Thou, O Christ, art all I want ; 

More than all in Thee I find : 
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, 

Heal the sick, and lead the blind '. 
Just and holy is Thy Name ; 

I am all unrighteousness ; 
False and full of sin I am, 

Thou art full of truth and grace. 

Plenteous grace with Thee is found, 

Grace to cover all my sin ; 
Let the healing streams abound ; 

Make and keep me pure within ! 
Thou of Life the Fountain art, 

Freely let me take of Thee ; 
Spring Thou up within my heart ! 

Rise to all eternity ! 

Charles IVeshy. 1740. 


Now may He, who from the dead 
Brought the Shepherd of the sheep, 

Jesus Christ, our King and Head, 
All our souls in safety keep 1 

May He teach us to fulfil 
What is pleasing in His sight, 

Perfect us in all His will, 
And preserve us day and night ! 

To that dear Redeemer's praise 

Who the covenant seal'd with blood, 

Let our hearts and voices raise 
Loud thanksgivings to our God ! 

Joh7t Newton. 1779. 

For Thine is the Kingdojn]'' &^c. 253 


O most merciful, 

O most bountiful, 
God the Father Almighty ! 

By the Redeemer's 

Sweet intercession, 
Hear us, help us, when we cry ! 

Bishop Reginald Heber. 1827. 



Now to Him, w^ho loved us, gave us 
Every pledge that love could give, 
Freely shed His Blood to save us. 

Gave His life that w^e might live : 
Be the kingdom, and dominion, 
And the glory, evermore ! 

Variation. [i844.J 
Fro7n Sa?nuel Miller Waring. 1827. 


Worship, honour, glor>', blessing, 

Lord, we offer to Thy Name : 
Young and old their praise expressing, 

Join Thy goodness to proclaim. 
As the saints in Heaven adore Thee, 

We would bow before Thy throne ; 
As the angels serve before Thcc, 

So on earth Thy will be done ! 

Edward Osier 1 836. 

254 The Book of P^-aise. 


Psalm CXVII. 

From all that dwell below the skies 
Let the Creator's praise arise ; 
Let the Redeemer's Name be sung 
Through every land, by every tongue ! 

Eternal are Thy mercies, Lord ! 
Eternal truth attends Thy word : 
Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore. 
Till suns shall rise and set no more. 

Isaac Watts. 17 ig. 




®lje §0oli of f raist. 






Awake, my soul, and with the sun 
Thy daily stage of duty run ; 
Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise 
To pay Thy morning sacrifice. 

Thy precious time mis-spent redeem ; 
Each present day thy last esteem ; 
Improve thy talent with due care ; 
For the great day thyself prepare. 

In conversation be sincere ; 
Keep conscience as the noontide clear ; 
Think how All-seeing God thy ways 
And all thy secret thoughts surveys. 

By influence of the light divine 
Let thy own light to others shine ; 
Reflect all Heaven's propitious rays, 
In ardent love and cheerful praise. 


258 The Book of Praise. 

Wake and lift up thyself, my heart, 
And with the angels bear thy part, 
Who, all night long, unwearied sing 
High praise to the Eternal King. 

I wake ! I wake I Ye heavenly choir, 
May your devotion me inspire, 
That I, like you, my age may spend, 
Like you may on my God attend ! 

May I, like you, in God delight, 
Have all day long my God in sight, 
Perform like you my Maker's will ! 

may I never more do ill ! 

Had I your wings, to Heaven I'd fly ; 
But God shall that defect supply ; 
And my soul, wing'd with warm desire, 
Shall all day long to Heaven aspire. 

All praise to Thee, who safe hast kept. 
And hast refresh'd me whilst I slept ! 
Grant, Lord, when I from death shall wake, 

1 may of endless light partake ! 

I w^ould not wake, nor rise again, 
A.nd Heaven itself I w^ould disdain, 
Wert Thou not there to be enjoyd, 
And I in hymns to be employ'd ! 

Heaven is, dear Lord, where'er Thou art ; 
O never then from me depart ! 
For, to my soul, 'tis hell to be 
But for one moment void of Thee. 

Lord, I my vows to Thee renew ; 
Disperse my sins as morning dev/ ; 

Day and Night. 259 

Guard my first springs of thought and will, 
And with Thyself my spirit fill. 

Direct, control, suggest, this day, 

All I design, or do, or say ; 

That all my powers, with all their might. 

In Thy sole glory may unite. 

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow ; 
Praise Him, all creatures here below ! 
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host ; 
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! 

Bishop Thomas Ke7i. 1697— 1709. 



God of tlie morning, at whose voice 
The cheerful sun makes haste to rise, 

And like a giant doth rejoice 

To run his journey through the skies ; 

From the fair chambers of the east 

The circuit of his race begins ; 
And, without weariness or rest. 

Round the whole earth he flies and shines 

O, like the sun, may I fulfil 
Th' appointed duties of the day, 

With ready mind and active will 

March on, and keep my heavenly way ! 

But I shall rove and lose the race, 
If God, my sun, should disappear. 

And leave me in this world's wide maze 
To follow every wandering star. 
s 2 

56o The Book of Praise. 

Lord ! Thy commands are clean and pure, 
Enlightening our beclouded eyes ; 

Thy threatenings just, Thy promise sure ; 
Thy Gospel makes the simple wise. 

Give me Thy counsel for my guide, 
And then receive me to Thy bliss : 

All my desires and hopes beside 

Are faint and cold, compared with this ! 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 



O timely happy, timely wise. 
Hearts that with rising morn arise ! 
Eyes that the beam celestial view, 
Which evermore makes all things new ! 

New every morning is the love 
Our wakening and uprising prove. 
Through sleep and darkness safely brought, 
Restored to life, and power, and thought. 

New mercies, each returning day, 

Hover around us while we pray ; 

New perils past, new sins forgiven, 

New thoughts of God, new hopes of Heaven. 

If, on our daily course, our mind 
Be set to hallow all we find, 
New treasures still, of countless price, 
God will provide for sacrifice. 

Old friends, old scenes, will lovelier be. 
As more of Heaven in each we see ; 
Some softening gleam of love and prayer 
Shall dawn on eveiy cross and care. 

Day and Night. 261 

As for some dear familiar strain 
Untired we ask, and ask again ; 
Ever, in its melodious store, 
Finding a spell unheard before ; 

Such is the bliss of souls serene, 

When they have sworn, and steadfast mean, 

Counting the cost, in all t' espy 

Their God, in all themselves deny. 

O could we learn that sacrifice. 
What lights would all around us rise ! 
How would our hearts with wisdom talk 
Along life's dullest, dreariest walk ! 

We need not bid, for cloister'd cell, 
Our neighbour and our work farewell, 
Nor strive to wind ourselves too high 
For sinful man beneath the sky : 

The trivial round, the common task. 
Will furnish all we ought to ask ; 
Room to deny ourselves ; a road 
To bring us, daily, nearer God. 

Seek we no more : content with these, 
Let present rapture, comfort, case. 
As Heaven shall bid them, come and go; 
The secret this of rest below. 

Only, O Lord, in Thy dear love 
Fit us for perfect rest above ; 
And help us, this and every day, 
To live more nearly as we pray ! 

JohnKcble. 1827. 

262 The Book of Praise. 

M or fling. 

Since Thou hast added now, O God ! 

Unto my hfe another day, 
And giv'st me leave to walk abroad, 

And labour in my lawful way ; 
My walks and works with me begin, 
Conduct me forth, and bring me in. 

In every power my soul enjoy» 

Internal virtues to improve ; 
In every sense that she employs 

In her external works to move ; 
Bless her, O God ! and keep me sound 
From outv/ard harm and inward wound. 

Let sin nor Satan's fraud prevail 
To make mine eye of reason blind, 

Or faith, or hope, or love to fail, 
Or any virtues of the mind ; 

But more and more let them increase, 

And bring me to mine end in peace. 

Lewd courses let my feet forbear ; 

Keep Thou my hands from doing wrong ; 
Let not ill counsels pierce mine ear, 

Nor wicked words defile my tongue ; 
And keep the windows of each eye 
That no strange lust climb in thereby. 

But guard Thou safe my heart in chief; 

That neither hate, revenge, nor fear, 
Nor vain desire, vain joy, or grief, 

Obtain command or dwelling there : 
And, Lord ! with every saving grace, 
Still true to Thee maintain that place ! 

Day and Night. 263 

So till the evening of this morn 

My time shall then so well be spent, 

That when the twilight shall return 
I may enjoy it with content, 

And to Thy praise and honour say, 

That this hath proved a happy day. 

George Wither, 1641. 



Christ, whose glory fills the skies, 

Christ, the true, the only Light, 
Sun of Righteousness, arise, 

Triumph o'er the shades of night ! 
Day-spring from on high, be near ! 
Day-star, in my heart appear ! 

Dark and cheerless is the morn 

Unaccompanied by Thee ; 
joyless is the day's return, 

Till Thy mercy's beams I see ; 
Till they inward light impart. 
Glad my eyes, and warm my heart. 

Visit then this soul of mine, 

Pierce the gloom of sin and grief ! 

Fill me, Radiancy Divine, 
Scatter all my unbelief ! 

More and more Thyself display, 

Shining to the perfect day ! 

Charles Wesley. 1740. 

264 Ths Book oj Praise. 

" Sple7idor Patern(B Gloj'ice^'^ 
O Jesu, Lord of heavenly grace, 
Thou brightness of Thy Father's face, 
Thou Fountain of eternal light, 
Whose beams disperse the shades of night ! 

Come, holy Sun of heavenly love, 
Shower down Thy radiance from above, 
And to our inward hearts convey 
The Holy Spirit's cloudless ray. 

And we the Father's help will claim, 
And sing the Father's glorious Name ; 
His powerful succour we implore. 
That we may stand, to fall no more. 

May He our actions deign to bless, 
And loose the bonds of wickedness ; 
From sudden falls our feet defend, 
And bring us to a prosperous end. 

May faith, deep rooted in the soul, 
Subdue our flesh, our minds control ; 
May guile depart, and discord cease. 
And all within be joy and peace. 

And Christ shall be our daily food. 
Our daily drink His precious blood ; 
And thus the Spirit's calm excess 
Shall fill our souls with holiness. 

O hallowed be the approaching day ! 
Let meekness be our morning ray ; 
And faithful love our noonday light ; 
And hope our sunset, calm and bright ! 

Day and Night, 265 

O Christ ! with each returning morn 
Thine image to our hearts is borne : 
O, may we ever clearly see 
Our Saviour and our God in Thee ! 

John Cha7idler. 1837. 
From St. Ambrose. 



Lord God of morning and of night, 
We thank Thee for Thy gift of light : 
As in the dawn the shadows fly, 
We seem to find Thee now more nigh. 

Fresh hopes have waken'd in our hearts. 
Fresh energy to do our parts ; 
Thy thousand sleeps our strength restore, 
A thousand fold to serve Thee more. 

Yet whilst Thy will we would pursue, 
Oft what we would we cannot do ; 
The sun may stand in zenith skies. 
But on the soul thick midnight lies. 

O Lord of lights ! 'tis Thou alone 
Canst make our darken'd hearts Thine own : 
Though this new day with joy we see, 
O Dawn of God ! w^e cry for Thee ! 

Praise God, our Maker and our Friend ! 
Praise Him through time, till time shall end! 
Till psalm and song His Name adore 
Through Heaven s great day of Evermore ! 
Francis Turner Palgrave. 1862. 

266 The Book of Praise. 



When at mid-day my task I ply 
With labouring hand or watchful eye, 
I need the timely aid of prayer 
To guard my soul from worldly care. 

Thou, Lord, didst consecrate this hour 
To mind us of Thy saving power, 
Thy giving water's heavenly spell. 
The mystery of Jacob's well. 

There, about noon, with toil oppress'd, 
Feebly Thy voice its plaint express'd, 
^' Give Me to drink !" O wondrous woe ! 
God thirsts, from whom all blessings -flow ! 

He needed not, by v/hom we live, 
And only ask'd, that He might give : 
A mightier want He felt within ; 
The thirst to save a soul from sin. 

Lord, in our pilgrimage of grace, 
Thy weary footsteps oft we trace ; 
And in the inner man renew 
The grief, Thy sacred body knew. 

Our spirits faint upon the way, 
We bear the burden of the day : 
'Tis then for strength to Thee we turn, 
Sit at Thy feet, and wisdom learn. 

We ask of Thee, the gift of God, 
Pure water from the vital flood, 
To cure our feverish thirst of sin, 
A well of water deep within. 

Day and Night. 267 

'Twas at mid-day, on blood intent, 
Saul to Damascus raging went : 
A light from heaven upon him came, 
Putting that mid-day sun to shame. 

The sudden glorious burst appals ; 
Dash'd to the earth he headlong falls : 
A Voice reproves ; a Form appears ; 
Aghast he sees and trembling hears. 

Now streams that light with melljplfl glow 
Around our path, where'er we go?^ 
Inviting us at noon to raise 
Our hearts to God in prayer and praise. 

And calmly now w^e hear that word ; 
It bids us rise and meet the Lord : 
What hour He cometh, none can say ; 
At dead of night, or at mid-day. 

O ! rise thou then, and strive, my soul, 
To reach the beatific goal ! 
Thy every nerve and sinew strain, 
The crown of glory to obtain ! 

For see, in all this iioon-tide heat, 
How worldlings labour for the meat 
That perishes and comes to nought. 
Like shadow, when we think 'tis caught. 

And wilt thou then refuse thy pains 
For heaven's imperishable gains ? 
Or canst thou grudge thy utmost toil 
For treasures, none can steal or spoil .'* 

268 The Book of Praise. 

The sun has its meridian past ; 
Soon will its beams oblique be cast ; 
And twilight pale will rise t' enshroud 
Their radiance in the western cloud. 

Yet, for a time, 'tis bright and glad ; 
But coming night is dark and sad : 
The day to man for toil was given ; 
And none at night can work for Heaven. 

Sun of my soul, Thyself display ! 
Quicken me. Lord, and cheer my way ! 
Till, borne upon Thy healing wing, 
Upward I soar Thy praise to sing. 

E'en now, when far from Thy bless'd light, 
At morn and eve, at noon and night, 
I tune my heart betimes, to join. 
Where angels in Thy presence shine. 

Yet angels, in their loftiest song. 
Fail in their flight, and do Thee wrong ; 
Like as their veil'd adoring face 
Tells of a Glory, none can trace ! 

And now, my mid-day homage paid, 
Life's busy path again I tread ; 
Yet happier far its task I ply 
From surer trust that Thou art nigh ; 

Nigh to defend, assist, and bless. 
Making my cares and dangers less ; 
And daily duteous toil the road, 
That leads to perfect peace in God : 

Day and Night 269 

Peace, through the grace of Christ our Lord ; 

Rest, in the Father's love restor'd ; 

Joy, by the Spirit's union given ; 

The peace, the rest, the joy of Heaven ! 

James Ford. 1856. 



The day, O Lord, is spent ; 
Abide with us, and rest ; 
Our hearts' desires are fully bent 
On making Thee our guest. 

We have not reach'd that land. 
That happy land, as yet. 
Where holy angels round Thee stand, 
Whose sun can never set. 

Our sun is sinking now ; 
Our day is almost o'er : 
O Sun of Righteousness, do Thou 
Shine on us evermore ! 

John Mason Nea/e. 1854. 


Behold the sun, that seem'd but now 

Enthroned overhead, 
Beginneth to decline below 

The globe whereon we tread ; 
And he, whom yet we look upon 

With comfort and delight, 
Will quite depart from hence anon, 

And leave us to the night. 

270 The Book of Praise. 

Thus time, unheeded, steals away 

The life which nature gave ; 
Thus are our bodies every day 

Declining to the grave : 
Thus from us all our pleasures fly 

Whereon we set our heart ; 
And when the night of death draws nigh, 

Thus will they all depart. 

Lord ! though the sun forsake our sight, 

And mortal hopes are vain ; 
Let still Thine everlasting light 

Within our souls remain ! 
And in the nights of our distress 

Vouchsafe those rays divine. 
Which from the Sun of Righteousness 

For ever brightly shine ! 

George Wither. 1641. 



Accept, my God, my evening song, 
Like incense let it fragrant rise ; 

Stir up my heart, and tune my tongue, 
And let the music reach the skies. 

Thou hast my kind protector been 
Through all the dangers of the day ; 

My guardian to defend from sin. 
My guide to choose me out my way. 

The flowing spring of all my good, 
Still pouring blessings from on high ; 

Thine hand hath dealt me out my food, 
For every want a kind supply. 


Day and Night. 

Unceasing, Lord, Thy bounty flow'd ; 

Each moment brought me m fresh aid ; 
But what returns of love to God 

Have I for all His kindness made ? 

What have I done for Him that died 
To save my soul from endless woe ? 

How much have I His patience tried 
From whom all my enjoyments flow ! 

Fast as my flying minutes pass. 
My faults augment the former sum ! 

Forgive the past, and by Thy grace 
Prevent the like for time to come ! 

Dear Saviour, to Thy cross I'll fly, 
And there my guilty head reclme, 

And my whole soul, that sm may die, 
Yield up to influence divine ! 

Then, sprinkled with atoning blood, 
I'll lay me down and take my rest, 
Trust the protection of my God, 

And sleep as on my Saviour's breast. 

Variation fro7n Isaac Watts. 1709. 
Bv Simon Browne. 1 720. 


All praise to Thee, my God, this night, 
For all the blessings of the light ; 
Keep me, oh keep me, King of kings, 
Beneath Thine own Almighty wings ! 

272 The Book of Praise. 

Forgive me, Lord, for Thy dear Son, 
The ill that I this day have done ; 
That with the world, myself, and Thee, 
I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. 

Teach me to live, that I may dread 
The grave as little as my bed ! 
To die, that this vile body may 
Rise glorious at the awful day ! 

O may my soul on Thee repose ; 
And may sweet sleep mine eyelids close 
Sleep, that may me more vig'rous make 
To serve my God when I awake ! 

When in the night I sleepless lie, 
My soul with heavenly thoughts supply ! 
Let no ill dreams disturb my rest, 
No powers of darkness me molest ! 

Dull sleep, of sense me to deprive ! 
I am but half my time alive : 
Thy faithful lovers, Lord, are griev'd 
To lie so long of Thee bereav'd. 

But though sleep o'er my frailty reigns, 
Let it not hold me long in chains ! 
And now and then let loose my heart, 
Till it an hallelujah dart ! 

The faster sleep the senses binds. 
The more unfetter'd are our minds ; 
O may my soul, from matter free. 
Thy loveliness unclouded see ! 

Day and Night. 273 

O when shall I, in endless day, 
For ever chase dark sleep away, 
And hymns with the supernal choir 
Incessant sing, and never tire ? 

O may my Guardian, while I sleep. 
Close to my bed his vigils keep ; 
His love angelical instil ; 
Stop all the avenues of ill : 

May he celestial joy rehearse, 
And thought to thought with me converse ; 
Or in my stead, all the night long, 
Sing to my God a grateful song ! 

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow. 
Praise Him, all creatures here below ! 
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host ! 
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! 

Bishop Thomas Ken, 1697 — 1709, 



O Lord, another day is flown ; 

And we, a lonely band. 
Are met once more before Thy throne 

To bless Thy fostering hand. 

And wilt Thou lend a listening ear 

To praises low as ours ? 
Thou wilt ! for Thou dost love to hear 

The song which meekness pours. 

And, Jesus, Thou Thy smiles wilt deign 

As we before Thee pray ; 
For Thou didst bless the infant train. 

And we are less than they. 

274 The Book of Praise. 

O let Thy grace perform its part, 

And let contention cease ; 
And shed abroad in every heart 

Thine everlasting peace ! 

Thus chastened, cleansed, entirely Thine, 

A flock by Jesus led, 
The Sun of holiness shall shine 

In glory on our head. 

And Thou wilt turn our wandering feet. 
And Thou wilt bless our way. 

Till worlds shall fade, and faith shall greet 
The dawn of lasting day ! 

Hejiry Kirkc White. 1803. 



Sun of my soul. Thou Saviour dear, 
It is not night if thou be near ; 
Oh ! may no earth-born cloud arise 
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes ! 

When round Thy wondrous works below 
My searching rapturous glance I throw. 
Tracing out wisdom, power, and love, 
In earth or sky, in stream or grove ; 

Or, by the light Thy words disclose, 
Watch time's full river as it flows. 
Scanning Thy gracious Providence, 
Where not too deep for mortal sense ; 

When with dear friends sweet talk I hold. 
And all the flowers of life unfold ; 
Let not my heart within me burn, 
Except in all I Thee discern ! 

Day and Night. 275 

When the soft dews of kindly sleep 
My wearied eyelids gently steep, 
Be my last thought, how sweet to rest 
For ever on my Saviour's breast ! 

Abide with me from morn till eve, 
For without Thee I cannot live ! 
Abide with me when night is nigh, 
For without Thee I dare not die ! 

I'hou Framer of the light and dark, 
Steer through the tempest Thine own ark ! 
Amid the howling wintry sea 
We arc in port if we have Thee. 

The rulers of this Christian land, 
'Twixt Thee and us ordain'd to stand, 
Guide Thou their course, O Lord, aright ! 
Let all do all as in Thy sight ! 

Oh ! by Thine own sad burthen, borne 
So meekly up the hill of scorn, 
Teach Thou Thy priests their daily cross, 
To bear as Thine, nor count it loss ! 

If some poor wandering child of Thine 
Have spurn'd, to-day, the voice divine ; 
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin ; 
Let him no more lie down in sin ! 

Watch by the sick, enrich the poor 
With blessings from Thy boundless store 1 
Be every mourner's sleep to-night 
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light ! 
T 2 

276 The Book of P7^aise. 

Come near and bless us when we wake, 
Ere through the world our way we take : 
Till, in the ocean of Thy love, 
We lose ourselves in Heaven above ! 

John Keble. 1827. 



Hear my prayer, O heavenly Father, 

Ere I lay me down to sleep : 
Bid Thy angels, pure and holy, 

Round my bed their vigil keep. 

My sins are heavy, but Thy mercy 

Far outweighs them every one ; 
Down before Thy cross I cast them, 

Trusting in Thy help alone. 

Keep me, through this night of peril. 
Underneath its boundless shade ; 

Take me to Thy rest, I pray Thee, 
When my pilgrimage is made ! 

None shall measure out Thy patience 

By the span of human thought ; 
None shall bound the tender mercies 

Which Thy Holy Son hath bought. 

Pardon all my past transgressions ; 

Give me strength for days to come ; 
Guide and guard me with Thy blessing, 

Till Thine angels bid me home ! 

Harriett Parr. 1856. 

Day and Night, 277 

Night ' 

God, that madest earth and heaven, 

Darkness and hght ; 
Who the day for toil hast given, 

For rest the night ; 
May Thine angel guards defend us ! 
Slumber sweet Thy mercy send us ! 
Holy dreams and hopes attend us, 

This live-long night ! 

Bishop Reginald Hcber. 1827. 



Through the day Thy love hath spared us : 

Now we lay us down to rest ; 
Through the silent watches guard us ! 

Let no foe our peace molest ! 
Jesus, Thou our Guardian be ! 
Sweet it is to trust in Thee. 

Pilgrims here on earth, and strangers ; 

Dwelling in the midst of foes : 
Us and ours preserve from dangers 

In Thine arms may we repose ! 
And, when life's sad day is past 
Rest with Thee in Heaven at last ! 

Thomas Kelly. 1806. 

278 The Book of Praise. 



All praise to Him who dwells in bliss, 
Who made both day and night ; 

Whose throne is darkness, in th' abyss 
Of uncreated light ! 

Each thought and deed His piercing eyes 
With strictest search survey ; 

The deepest shades no more disguise 
Than the full blaze of day. 

Whom Thou dost guard, O King of kings, 

No evil shall molest : 
Under the shadow of Thy wings 

Shall they securely rest. 

Thy angels shall around their beds 
Their constant stations keep ; 

Thy faith and truth shall shield their heads. 
For Thou dost never sleep. 

May we, with calm and sweet repose, 
And heavenly thoughts refresh'd, 

Our eyelids with the morn unclose, 
And bless the Ever-bless'd ! 

Charles Wesley. 1741. 



Interval of grateful shade, 
Welcome to my weary head : 
Welcome slumber to mine eyes, 
Tired with glaring vanities. 

Day and Night. 279 

My great Master still allows 
Needful periods of repose ; 
By my Heavenly Father blest, 
Thus I give my powers to rest. 

Heavenly Father ! gracious Name ! 
Night and day His love the same ! 
Far be each suspicious thought, 
Every anxious care forgot. 

Thou, my ever bounteous God, 
Crov/n'st my days with various good ; 
Thy kind eye, that cannot sleep. 
These defenceless hours shall keep. 

What though downy slumbers flee, 
Strangers to my couch and me ? 
Sleepless, well I know to rest, 
Lodged within my Father's breast. 

While the empress of the night 
Scatters mild her silver light. 
While the vivid planets stray 
Various through their mystic way, 

While the stars unnumbered roll 
Round the ever constant pole. 
Far above these spangled skies 
All my soul to God shall rise. 

Mid the silence of the night 
Mingling with those angels bright. 
Whose harmonious voices raise 
Ceaseless love and ceaseless praise. 

28o The Book of Pi'aise. 

Through the throng His gentle ear 
Shall my tuneless accents hear ; 
From on high doth He impart 
Secret comfort to my heart. 

He in these serenest hours 
Guides my intellectual powers, 
And His Spirit doth diffuse, 
Sweeter far than midnight dews, 

Lifting all my thoughts above 
On the wings of faith and love : 
Blest alternative to me, 
Thus to sleep, or wake with Thee ! 

What if death my sleep invade ? 
Should I be of death afraid ? 
Whilst encircled by Thine arm, 
Death may strike, but cannot harm. 

What if beams of opening day 
Shine around my breathless clay ? 
Brighter visions from on high 
Shall regale my mental eye. 

Tender friends awhile may mourn 
Me from their embraces torn ; 
Dearer, better friends I have 
In the realms beyond the grave. 

See the guardian angels nigh 
Wait to waft my soul on high ! 
See the golden gates displayed ! 
See the crown to grace my head ! 

Day a7id Night. 281 

See a flood of sacred light, 
Which no more shall yield to night ! 
Transitory world, farewell ! 
Jesus calls, with Him to dwell ! 

With Thy heavenly presence blest, 
Death is life, and labour rest ; 
Welcome sleep or death to mc, 
Still secure, for still with Thee ! 

Philip Doddridge. 1755. 



My God, now I from sleep awake, 

The sole possession of me take ; 

From midnight terrors me secure, 

And guard my heart from thoughts impure 

Bless'd angels ! while we silent lie. 
You hallelujahs sing on high ; 
You joyful hymn the Ever-blest 
Before the Throne, and never rest. 

I with your choir celestial join 
In offering up a hymn divine ; 
With you in Heaven I hope to dwell, 
And bid the night and world farewell. 

My soul, when I shake off this dust, 
Lord, in Thy arms I will entrust : 
O make me Thy peculiar care ; 
Some mansion for my soul prepare ! 

582 The Book of Praise. 

Give me a place at Thy saints' feet, 
Or some falln aPxgel's vacant seat ! 
I'll strive to sing as loud as they, 
Who sit above in brighter day. 

O may I always ready stand 
With my lamp burning in m.y hand : 
May I in sight of Heaven rejoice, 
Whene'er I hear the Bridegroom's voice ! 

All praise to Thee in light arra/d. 
Who hght Thy dwelling-place hast made ; 
A boundless ocean of bright beams 
From Thy all-glorious Godhead streams. 

The Sun in its meridian height 
Is very darkness in Thy sight ! 
My soul O lighten and inflame, 
With thought and love of Thy great Name ! 

Bless'd Jesu, Thou, on Heaven intent. 
Whole nights hast in devotion spent ; 
But I, frail creature, soon am tired, 
And all my zeal is soon expired. 

My soul, how canst thou weary grow 
Of antedating bliss below, 
In sacred hymns, and heavenly love. 
Which will eternal be above ? 

Shine on me, Lord, new life impart ! 
Fresh ardours kindle in my heart ! 
One ray of Thy all-quickening light 
Dispels the sloth and clouds of night. 

Lord, lest the tempter me surprise. 
Watch over Thine ov/n sacrifice ! 

Day and Night. 283 

All loose, all idle thoughts cast out, 
And make my very dreams devout ! 

Praise God from whom all blessings flow. 
Praise Him, all creatures here below ! 
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host ; 
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! 

Bishop Thovias Ken. 1697 — 1709. 



Awake, my soul, awake to prayer ; 
Thy vigil of the night prepare : 
Now all around is dark and still, 
Angels defending us from ill. 

The time to sacred thought is dear, 
When Thou alone, good Lord, art near ; 
Hush'd is the world's external din. 
That we may hear Thy voice within. 

It seems to plead with gentle breath ; 
" Sad child of frailty, heir of death, 
" Its rest thy wearied body knows ; 
" O ! let thy soul on Me repose ! 

" I came to suffer in thy stead ; 
" I had not Avhere to lay My head : 
" Think on the love, that could provide 
" Blessings for man, to God denied ! " 

Thus silent hours of darkness prove 
Remembrancers of Jesu's love ; 
While constancy in prayer we learn 
From each succeeding night's return. 

284 The Book of Praise. 

Day without night the Angels sing, 
Nor rest upon the drooping wing ; 
Teaching our souls betimes to ascend, 
Where hallelujahs never end. 

David awaked his harp and voice, 
And all within him, to rejoice, 
God's love to praise at morning light, 
And tell of all His truth at night 

Jacob in prayer nocturnal strove ; 

No stern repulse his prayer could move : 

In vain the Angel-man did say, 

" Dismiss Me ; for 'tis break of day ! " 

See how, in galling fetters laid, 
At midnight Paul and Silas pray'd ; 
Their gory wounds still smarting sore, 
And cold the prison's rugged floor. 

They sang the praises of the Lord ; 
So loud they sang, the prisoners heard : 
And yet they thought that death was nigh ; 
And clouds obscured their morning sky. 

How shall I then Thy praise decline, 
When health, and friends, and home are mine ? 
My dawn of day is clear and calm ; 
No foes oppress, no fears alarm. 

Are these Thy mercies, Lord, to me ? 
O ! let me then Thy servant be ! 
Submitting to Thy just control, 
And loving Thee with all my soul. 

Day and Night, 285 

So shall I find Thee strong to save. 
When my last bed shall be the grave ; 
The Grave shall own my Saviour's might, 
And darkness vanish at Thy sight ! 

Only my soul must now awake 
From sleep of sin, for Thy dear sake ! 
And then my body shall arise 
From sleep of death to yonder skies. 

'Tis there I hope Thy Face to see, 
The crown of all felicity ; 
'Tis there I hope that rest to gain, 
Which here I seek, but seek in vain. 

As endless ages roll along, 
Endless shall be my grateful song : 
And Heaven itself shall pass away, 
Before I cease my vows to pay. 

Glory to God, who Israel keeps, 
Who never slumbers, never sleeps ! 
Almighty Power no weakness knows ; 
Unwearied Love asks no repose. 

And now, my midnight musings o'er, 
Thy wonted mercies. Lord, restore : 
Let sleep again my eyelids fill. 
And Angels guard my soul from ill. 

Praise to the Father, and the Son, 
And th' Holy Ghost, Bless'd Three in One ! 
Praise to the Lord, our God, be giv'n 
By all on earth, by all in heaven ! 

James Ford. 1856, 

286 The Book of Praise. 




Eternal source of every joy. 

Well may Thy praise our lips employ, 

While in Thy temple we appear, 

Whose goodness crowns the circling year. 

The flowery spring at Thy command 
Embalms the air and paints the land ; 
The summer rays with vigour shine, 
To raise the corn, and cheer the vine. 

Thy hand in autumn richly pours 
Through all our coasts redundant stores, 
And winters, soften'd by Thy care. 
No more a face of horror wear. 

Seasons and months and weeks and days 
Demand successive songs of praise ; 
Still be the cheerful homage paid 
With opening light and evening shade ! 

Oh ! may our more harmonious tongues 
In worlds unknown pursue the songs ; 
And in those brighter courts adore, 
Where days and years revolve no more 1 

Philip Doddridge. 1755 


Fountain of mercy ! God of love ! 

How rich Thy bounties are ! 
The rolHng seasons, as they move, 

Proclaim Thy constant care. 

Seed Tifue and Harvest. 287 

When in the bosom of the earth 

The sower hid the grain, 
Thy goodness mark'd its secret birth, 

And sent the early rain. 

The spring's sweet influence was Thine, 

The plants in beauty grew ; 
Thou gav'st refulgent suns to shine, 

And mild refreshing dew. 

These various mercies from above, 

Matur'd the swelling grain ; 
A yellow harvest crowns Thy love, 

And plenty fills the plain. 

Seed-time and harvest, Lord, alone 

Thou dost on man bestow ; 
Let him not then forget to own 

From whom his blessings flow ! 

Fountain of love ! our praise is Thine ; 

To Thee our songs we'll raise. 
And all created Nature join 

In sweet harmonious praise ! 

A nne Floiuodcw. 1 8 1 1. 


Lord, in Thy Name Thy servants plead, 
And Thou hast sworn to hear ; 

Thine is the harvest, Thine the seed, 
The fresh and fading year. 

Our hope, when autumn winds blew wild, 
We trusted. Lord, with Thee ; 

And now, that spring has on us smiled, 
We wait on Thy decree. 

288 The Book of Praise. 

The former and the latter rain, 

The summer sun and air, 
The green ear, and the golden grain, 

All Thine, are ours by prayer. 

Thine too by right, and ours by grace. 
The wondrous growth unseen. 

The hopes that soothe, the fears that brace. 
The love that shines serene ! 

So grant the precious things brought forth 

By sun and moon below. 
That Thee, in Thy new heaven and earth, 

We never may forego ! 

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 

The God whom we adore. 
Be glory, as it was, is now, 
And shall be evermore ! 

Amen ! 

JohuKeble. 1857. 


Praise, O praise our God and King, 

Hymns Of adoration sing, 

For His mercies still endure, 
Ever faithful, ever sure. 

Praise Him that He made the sun 
Day by day his course to run, 
For His mercies still endure. 
Ever faithful, ever sure : 

And the silver moon by night. 
Shining with her gentle light, 
For His mercies still endure, 
Ever faithful, ever sure. 

Seed Time and Harvest 289 

Praise Him that He gave the rain 
To mature the sweUing grain, 

For His mercies still endure, 

Ever faithful, ever sure : 

And hath bid the fruitful field 
Crops of precious increase yield ; 

For His mercies still endure, 

Ever faithful, ever sure. 

Praise Him for our harvest-store ; 
He hath fiU'd the garner-floor ; 

For His mercies still endure, 

Ever faithful, ever sure : 

And for richer food than this, 
Pledge of everlasting bliss ; 

For His mercies still endure, 

Ever faithful, ever sure. 

Glory to our bounteous King ! 

Glory let Creation sing ! 

Glory to the Father, Son, 

And blest Spirit, Three in One ! 

Sir Henry Baker. 1 861. 


Praise to God, immortal praise, 
For the love that crowns our days ! 
Bounteous source of every joy, 
Let Thy praise our tongues employ. 

For the blessings of the field, 
For the stores the gardens yield ; 
For the vine's exalted juice, 
For the generous olive's use : 

290 The Book of Praise. 

Flocks that whiten all the plain ; 
Yellow sheaves of ripen'd grain ; 
Clouds that drop their fattening dews ; 
Suns that temperate warmth diffuse : 

All that Spring with bounteous hand 
Scatters o'er the smiling land ; 
All that liberal Autumn pours 
From her rich o'erflowing stores : 

These to Thee, my God, we owe, 
Source whence all our blessings flow ; 
And for these my soul shall raise 
Grateful vows and solemn praise. 

Yet, should rising vrhirlwinds tcr.r 
From its stem the ripening ear ; 
Should the fig-tree's blasted shoot 
Drop her green untimely fruit ; 

Should the vine put forth no more, 
Nor the olive yield her store ; 
Though the sickening flocks should fall, 
And the herds desert the stall ; 

Should Thine alter'd hand restrain 
The early and the latter rain ; 
Blast each opening bud of joy. 
And the rising year destroy ; 

Yet to Thee my soul should raise 
Grateful vows and solemn praise ; 
And, when every blessing's flown. 
Love Thee for Thyself alone ! 

Anna Lcstitia Barba^tid. 1773. 

Seed Time aiid Har^'est. 291 


Lord of the harvest ! Thee we hail ; 
Thine ancient promise doth not fail ; 
The varying seasons haste their round, 
With goodness all our years are crown'd ; 

Our thanks we pay 

This holy day ; 
O let our hearts in tune be found ! 

If Spring doth wake the song of mirth 
If Summer warms the fruitful earth ; 
When Winter sweeps the naked plain. 
Or Autumn yields its ripen'd grain ; 

Still do we sing 

To Thee, our King ; 
Through all their changes Thou dost reign. 

But chiefly when Thy liberal hand 
Scatters new plenty o'er the land. 
When sounds of music fill the air, 
As homeward all their treasures bear ; 

We too will raise 

Our hymn of praise, 
For we Thy common bounties share. 

Lord of the harvest ! all is Thine ! 
The rains that fall, the suns that shine, 
The seed once hidden in the ground, 
The skill that makes our fruits abound ! 
New, every year, 
Thy gifts appear ; 
New praises from our lips shall sound ! 

John Hampden Gurney. 1 838 — 1 85 1 . 
U 2 

292 The Book of Praise. 


Lord of the harvest ! once again 
We thank Thee for the ripen'd grain ; 
For crops safe carried, sent to cheer 
Thy servants through another year ; 
For all sweet holy thoughts supplied 
By seed-time, and by harvest-tide. 

The bare dead grain, in autumn sown, 
Its robe of vernal green puts on ; 
Glad from its wintry grave it springs. 
Fresh garnish'd by the King of kings : 
So, Lord, to those who sleep in Thee 
Shall new and glorious bodies be. 

Nor vainly of Thy Word we ask 
A lesson from the reaper's task ; 
So shall Thine angels issue forth ; 
The tares be burnt ; the just of earth, 
Playthings of sun and storm no more. 
Be gather'd to their Father's store. 

Daily, O Lord, our prayers be said. 
As Thou hast taught, for daily bread ; 
But not alone our bodies feed ; 
Supply our fainting spirits' need ! 
O Bread of Life ! from day to day. 
Be Thou their Comfort, Food, and Stay ! 

Joseph Anstice. [1836.] 


Come, ye thankful people, come, 
Raise the song of Harvest-Home ! 
All is safely gather'd in, 
Ere the winter-storms begin ; 

Seed Time and Harvest. 293 

God, our Maker, doth provide 
P^or our wants to be supplied ; 
Come to God's own temple, come. 
Raise the song of Harvest-Home ! 

We ourselves are God's own field, 
Fruit unto His praise to yield ; 
Wheat and tares together sown, 
Unto joy or sorrow grown : 
First the blade, and then the ear, 
Then the full corn shall appear : 
Grant, O harvest Lord, that we 
Wholesome grain and pure may be ! 

For the Lord our God shall come, 
And shall take LI is harvest home ! 
From His field shall purge away 
All that doth offend, that day ; 
Give His Angels charge at last 
In the fire the tares to cast. 
But the fruitful ears to store 
In His garner evermore. 

Then, thou Church triumphant, come. 

Raise the song of Harvest-Home ! 

All are safely gather'd in, 

Free from sorrow, free from sin ; 

There for ever purified. 

In God's garner to abide : 

Come, ten thousand Angels, come. 

Raise the glorious Harvest-Home ! 

Heuf-y A /ford. 1845. 

294 The Book of Praise. 



Another year hath fled ; renew, 

Lord, with our days Thy love ! 
Our days are evil here and few ; 

We look to live above : 
We will not grieve, though day by day 
We pass from earthly joys away ; 

Our joy abides in Thee ; 

Our joy abides in Thee ! 

Yet, when our sins we call to mind, 

We cannot fail to grieve ; 
But Thou art pitiful and kind, 

And wilt our prayer receive : 
O Jesu, evermore the same, 
Our hope we rest upon Thy Name ; 

Our hope abides in Thee ; 

Our hope abides in Thee ! 

For all the future, Lord, prepare 

Our souls with strength Divine ; 
Help us to cast on Thee our care, 

And on Thy servants shine : 
Life without Thee is dark and drear ; 
Death is not death if Thou art near ; 

Our life abides in Thee ; 

Our life abides in Thee ! 

A rth ur Tozer Russell, 1 85 1 . 

The Old and Netu Year. 295 


Harp, awake ! tell out the story 

Of our love and joy and praise ; 
Lute, awake ! awake our glory ! 

Join a thankful song to raise ! 
Join we, brethren faithful-hearted, 

Lift the solemn voice again 
O'er another year departed 

Of our threescore years and ten 

Lo ! a theme for deepest sadness, 

In ourselves with sin defiled ; 
Lo ! a theme for holiest gladness. 

In our Father reconciled ! 
In the dust we bend before Thee, 

Lord of sinless hosts above ; 
Yet in lowliest joy adore Thee, 

God of mercy, grace, and love ! 

Gracious Saviour ! Thou hast lengthen'd 

And hast blest our mortal span, 
And in our weak hearts hast strengthen'd 

What Thy grace alone began ! 
Still, when danger shall betide us, 

Be Thy warning whisper heard ; 
Keep us at Thy feet, and guide us 

By Thy Spirit and Thy Word ! 

Let Thy favour and Thy blessing 
Crown the year we now begin ; 

Let us all. Thy strength possessing. 
Grow in grace, and vanciuish sin ! 

296 The Book oj Praise. 

Storms are round us, hearts are quailing, 
Signs in heaven and earth and sea ; 

But, when heaven and earth are failing, 
Saviour ! we will trust in Thee ! 

Henry Deiunfon. [ 1 85 1 .] 


Awake, ye saints, and raise your eyes, 

And raise your voices high ; 
Awake, and praise that sovereign love 

That shows Salvation nigh. 

On all the wings of time it flies. 
Each mq^nent brings it near ; 

Then welcome each declining day. 
Welcome each closing year ! 

Not many years their round shall run. 

Nor many mornings rise, 
Ere all its glories stand reveal'd 

To our admiring eyes ! 

Ye wheels of nature, speed your course ! 

Ye mortal powers, decay ! 
Fast as ye bring the night of death, 

Ye bring eternal day ! 

Ph Hip Doddridge. 1755. 


While with ceaseless course the sun 

Hasted through the former year. 
Many souls their race have run, 

Never more to meet us here : 
Fix'd in an eternal state, 

They have done with all belov/ ; 
We a little longer wait. 

But how little, none can know. 

The Old and New Year. 297 

As the winged arrow flies 

Speedily the mark to find ; 
As the hghtning from the skies 

Darts, and leaves no trace behind ; 
Swiftly thus our fleeting days 

Bear us down life's rapid stream : 
Upward, Lord ! our spirits raise ! 

All below is but a dream. 

Thanks for mercies past receive ; 

Pardon of our sins renew ; 
Teach us, henceforth, how to live 

With eternity in view : 
Bless Thy word to young and old ; 

Fill us with a Saviour's love ; 
And, when life's short tale is told, 

May we dwell with Thee above ! 

John Newton. 1779. 


For Thy mercy and Thy grace, 
Faithful through another year. 
Hear our song of thankfulness, 
Father, and Redeemer, hear ! 

In our weakness and distress. 
Rock of strength ! be Thou our stay ! 
In the pathless wilderness 
Be our true and living way ! 

Who of us death's awful road 
In the coming year shall tread ? 
With Thy rod and staff, O God, 
Comfort Thou his dying head ! 

igS The Book of Praise. 

Keep us faithful, keep us pure, 
Keep us evermore Thine own ! 
Help, O help us to endure i 
Fit us for the promised crown ! 

So within Thy palace gate 

We shall praise, on golden strings, 

Thee, the only Potentate, 

Lord of lords, and King of kings ! 

Henry Downton. [ 1 85 1 .] 


To-morrow, Lord, is Thine, 
Lodged in Thy sovereign hand, 
And, if its sun arise and shine, 
It shines by Thy command. 

The present moment flies. 
And bears our life away : 
O make Thy servants truly wise, 
That they may live to-day ! 

Since on this winged hour 
Eternity is hung. 
Waken by Thy Almighty pov/er 
The aged and the young ! 

One thing demands our care : 
O ! be it still pursued ! 
Lest, slighted once, the season fair 
Should never be renew'd ! 

To Jesus may we fly 
Swift as the morning light ; 
Lest life's young golden beams should die 
In sudden endless night ! 

Philip Dodchidge. 1755. 

Baptism and Childhood. 299 




God of that glorious gift of grace 
By which Thy people seek Thy face, 
When in Thy presence we appear, 
Vouchsafe us faith to venture near ! 

Confiding in Thy truth alone. 
Here, on the steps of Jesus' throne. 
We lay the treasure Thou hast given 
To be received and rear'd for Heaven. 

Lent to us for a season, \ve 
Lend him for ever, Lord, to Thee ! 
Assured, that, if to Thee he live, 
We gain in what we seem to give. 

Large and abundant blessings shed. 
Warm as these prayers, upon his head ! 
And on his soul the dews of grace. 
Fresh as these drops upon his face ! 

Make him and keep him Thine own child, 
Meek follower of the Undefil'd ! 
Possessor here of grace and love ; 
Inheritor of Heaven above ! 

Joh?i S. B. Monscll. 1837. 


Lord ! may the inward grace abound 
Through Thine appointed outward sign ; 

A milder seal than Abraham found 
Of cov'nant blessings more Divine ; 

300 The Book of Praise. 

Which opens glory to our view 
Beyond the brightest hope he knew ! 

Type of the Spirit's hving flow, 

In faith we pour the hallow'd stream ; 

We sign the cross upon the brow, 
The solemn pledge of truth to Him, 

Who shed for us His precious Blood 

To seal the covenant of God. 

Baptized into the Trinity, 
Adopted children of Thy grace, 

O help us, Lord, to live to Thee 
A humble, pure, and faithful race ! 

Instruct us, sanctify, defend. 

And crown with heavenly life our end ! 

Edwai'd Osier. 1836. 


In token that thou shalt not fear 
Christ Crucified to own. 

We print the cross upon thee here, 
And stamp thee His alone. 

In token that thou shalt not blush 

To glor}^ in His Name, 
We blazon here upon thy front 

His glory and His shame. 

In token that thou shalt not flinch 
Christ's quarrel to maintain, 

But 'neath His banner manfully 
Firm at thy post remain ; 

Baptisin and Childhood. 301 

In token that thou too shalt tread 

The path He travell'd by, 
Endure the cross, despise the shame. 

And sit thee down on high ; 

Thus, outwardly and visibly, 

We seal thee for His own : 
And may the brow that wears His cross 

Hereafter share His crown ! 

Henry Alford. 1845. 


Sweet baby, sleep ! what ails my dear, 
What ails my darling thus to cry ? 

Be still, my child, and lend thine ear, 
To hear me sing thy lullaby. 

My pretty lamb, forbear to weep ; 

Be still, my dear ; sweet baby, sleep. 

Thou blessed soul, what canst thou fear ? 

What thing to thee can mischief do ? 
Thy God is now thy Father dear. 

His holy Spouse, thy mother too. 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; 
Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. 

Though thy conception was in sin, 
A sacred bathing thou hast had ; 

And though thy birth unclean hath been, 
A blameless babe thou now art made. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; 

Be still, my dear, sweet baby, sleep. 

The Book of Praise. 

While thus thy lullaby I sing, 

For thee great blessings ripening be ; 

Thine eldest brother is a king, 

And hath a kingdom bought for thee. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; 

Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. 

Sweet baby, sleep, and nothing fear ; 

For whosoever thee offends 
By thy protector threaten'd are, 

And God and angels are thy friends. 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; 
Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. 

When God with us was dwelling here. 
In little babes He took delight ; 

Such innocents as thou, my dear, 
Are ever precious in His sight. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to \veep ; 

Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep, 

A little infant once was He ; 

And strength in weakness then was laid 
Upon His virgin mother's knee. 

That power to thee might be convey'd. 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; 
Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. 

In this thy frailty and thy need 

He friends and helpers doth prepare, 

Which thee shall cherish, clothe, and feed, 
For of thy weal they tender are. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; 

Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. 

Baptism a;id Childhood. 30;; 

The King of kings, when lie was born, 
Had not so much for outward ease ; 

By Him such dressings were not worn, 
Nor such-like swaddhng-clothcs as these. 

Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; 

Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. 

Within a manger lodged thy Lord, 

Where oxen lay, and asses fed : 
Warm rooms we do to thee afford, 

An easy cradle or a bed. 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; 
Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. 

The wants that He did then sustain 

Have purchased wealth, my babe, for thee ; 

And by His torments and His pain 
Thy rest and ease secured be. 

My baby, then forbear to Aveep ; 

Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. 

Thou hast, yet more, to perfect this, 

A promise and an earnest got 
Of gaining everlasting bliss, 

Though thou, my babe, perceiv'st it not ; 
Sweet baby, then forbear to weep ; 
Be still, my babe ; sweet baby, sleep. 

Gcori^c Wither. 1641, 


Sleep well, my dear ; sleep safe and free 
The holy Angels are with thcc. 
Who always see thy Father's face. 
And never slumber, nights nor days. 

304 The Book of Pi^aise. 

Thou liest in down, soft every way ; 
Thy Saviour lay in straw and hay ; 
Thy cradle is far better drest 
Than the hard crib where He did rest. 

None dare disturb thy present ease ; 
He had a thousand enemies ; 
Thou liv'st in great security ; 
But He was punish' d, and for thee ! 

God make thy mother's health increase, 
To see thee grow in strength and grace, 
In wisdom and humility, 
As infant Jesus did for thee ! 

God fill thee with His heavenly light 
To steer thy Christian course aright ; 
Make thee a tree, of blessed root, 
That ever bends with godly fruit ! 

Sleep now, my dear, and take thy rest ; 
And if with riper years thou'rt blest. 
Increase in wisdom, day and night. 
Till thou attain' st th' eternal Light ! 

John Christian Jacobi. 1722. 
From John Christopher Ruben. 


O Holy Lord, content to live 
In a poor home, a lowly child, 

And in subjection meek to give 
Obedience to Thy mother mild ; 

Lead every child that bears Thy Name 
To Avalk in Thy pure upright way, 

To dread the touch of sin and shame, 
And humbly, like Thyself, obey ! 

Baptism and Childhood. 305 

O let not this world's scorching glow 
Thy Spirit's quickening dew efface, 

Nor blast of sin too rudely blow, 
And quench the trembling flame of grace i 

Gather Thy lambs within Thine arm, 
And gently in Thy bosom bear ; 

Keep them, O Lord, from hurt and harm, 
And bid them rest for ever there ! 

So shall they, waiting here below, 
Like Thee, their Lord, a little span. 

In wisdom and in stature grow. 
And favour both with God and man. 

William Walsham How. [1854.] 


Saviour, who Thy flock art feeding 
With the Shepherd's kindest care. 

All the feeble gently leading, 

While the lambs Thy bosom share ; 

Now, these little ones receiving, 
Fold them in Thy gracious arm ; 

There, we know. Thy word believing. 
Only there, secure from harm ! 

Never, from Thy pasture roving. 

Let them be the lion's prey ; 
Let Thy tenderness so loving 

Keep them all life's dangerous way : 

Then, within Thy fold eternal. 

Let them find a resting-place, 
Feed in pastures ever vernal, 
Drink the rivers of Thy grace ! 

A7io?i. [1832.] 

The Book of Praise. 


Lamb of God, I look to Thee ; 
Thou shalt my example be ; 
Thou art gentle, meek, and mild ; 
Thou wast once a little child. 

Fain I would be as Thou art ; 
Give me Thy obedient heart ! 
Thou art pitiful and kind ; 
Let me have Thy loving mind ! 

Meek and lowly may I be ; 
Thou art all humility ! 
Let me to my betters bow ; 
Subject to Thy parents Thou. 

Let me above all fulfil 
God my heavenly Father's will ; ^ 
Never His good Spirit grieve ; 
Only to His glory live ! 

Thou didst hve to God alone ; 
Thou didst never seek Thine own ; 
Thou Thyself didst never please ; 
God was all Thy happiness. 

Loving Jesu, gentle Lamb, 
In Thy gracious hands I am ; 
Make me, Saviour, what Thou art ! 
Live Thyself within my heart ! 

I shall then shev/ forth Thy praise ; 
Serve Thee all my happy days ; 
Then the world shall always see 
Christ, the Holy Child, in miC. 

Charles Wesley. 174.0. 

Baptism a7id Childhood. 307 


When Jesus left His Father's throne, 

He chose an humble birth ; 
Like us, unhonour d and unknown, 

He came to dwell on earth. 

Like Him, may we be found below 

In wisdom's paths of peace ; 
Like Him, in grace and knowledge grow. 

As years and strength increase. 

Jesus pass'd by the rich and great 

For men of low degree ; 
He sanctified our parents' state, 

For poor like them was He. 

Sweet were His words, and kind His lock, 
When mothers round Him press'd ; 

Their infants in His arms He took. 
And on His bosom bless'd. 

Safe from the world's alluring harms, 

Beneath His watchful eye, 
Thus in the circle of His arms 

May we for ever lie ! 

When Jesus into Salem rode, 

The children sang around ; 
For joy they pluck'd the palms, and strow'd 

Their garments on the ground. 

Hosanna our glad voices raise, 

Hosanna to our King ! 
Should we forget our Saviour's praise. 
The stones themselves would sing ! 

James Montgomery. 1S25 
X 2 

3o8 The Book of Praise. 


God of mercy, throned on high, 

Listen from Thy lofty seat ; 
Hear, O hear our feeble cry, 

Guide, O guide our wandering feet ! 

Young and erring travellers, we 

All our dangers do not know ; 
Scarcely fear the stormy sea. 

Hardly feel the tempest blow. 

Jesus, lov-er of the young. 

Cleanse us with Thy Blood divine ! 
Ere the tide of sin grow strong, 

Save us, keep us, make us Thine ! 

When perplex'd in danger's snare. 
Thou alone our guide canst be ; 

When oppress'd with woe and care. 
Whom have we to trust but Thee ? 

Let us ever hear Thy voice, 

Ask Thy counsel every day ; 
Saints and angels will rejoice, 

If we walk in wisdom's way. 

Saviour, give us faith, and pour 

Hope and love on every soul ! 
Hope, till time shall be no more ! 

Love, while endless ages roll ! 

Afion. [1833.] 

Baptism and Childhood. 309 


Shepherd of Israel, from above 

Thy feeble flock behold ; 
And let us never lose Thy love, 

Nor wander from Thy fold. 

Thou wilt not cast Thy lambs away ; 

Thy hand is ever near, 
To guide them lest they go astray, 

And keep them safe from fear. 

Thy tender care supports the weak, 

And will not let them fall ; 
Then teach us, Lord, Thy praise to speak, 

And on Thy Name to call ! 

We want Thy help, for we are frail ; 

Thy light, for we are blind ; 
Let grace o'er all our doubts prevail. 

To prove that Thou art kind. 

Teach us the things we ought to know ; 

And may we find them true ; 
And still, in stature as we grow, 

Increase in wisdom too. 

Guide us through life ; and when at last 

We enter into rest. 
Thy tender arms around us cast. 

And fold us to Thy breast ! 

Williain Hihy Bathurst. 1831. 

3IO The Book of Praist 




With all the powers my poor soul hath 
Of humble love, and loyal faith, 
I come, dear Lord, to worship Thee, 
Whom too much love bowed low for me. 

Down, busy sense ; discourses die ; 
And all adore faith's mystery ! 
Faith is my skill, faith can believe 
As fast as love new laws shall give. 

Faith is my eye, faith strength affords 
To keep pace with those gracious words ; 
And words more sure, more sweet than they, 
Love could not think, Truth could not say. 

O dear memorial of that Death 
Which still survives, and gives us breath ! 
Live ever, Bread of Life, and be 
My food, my joy, my all to me ! 

Come, glorious Lord ! my hopes increase, 
And mix my portion with Thy peace ! 
Come, and for ever dwell in me 
That I m^ay only live to Thee ! 

Come, hidden life, and that long day 
For which I languish, come away ! 
When this dry soul those eyes shall see, 
And drink the unseal'd Source of Thee ; 

Holy Commimion. 3 1 1 

When Glory's Sun faith's shade shall chase, 

And, for Thy vail, give me Thy face ; 

Then shall my praise eternal be 

To the Eternal Trinity ! 

Variation fro?}i Richard CrasJiaiu. 1646. 

By John Austin^ 1668, 

and Theophilus Dorrington. 1686. 


In memory of the Saviour's love, 
We keep the sacred feast. 

Where every humble contrite heart 
Is made a welcome guest. 

By faith we take the Bread of Life, 
W^ith which our souls are fed ; 

And Cup, in token of His Blood 
That was for sinners shed. 

Under His banner thus we sing 
The wonders of His love, 

And thus anticipate by faith 
The heavenly feast above. 

Anon. [1835.] 


O God, unseen, yet ever near, 

Thy presence may we feel ; 
And thus, inspired with holy fear. 

Before Thine altar kneel. 

Here may Thy faithful people know 

The blessings of Thy love ; 
The streams that through the desert flow 

The manna from above. 

312 Th e Book of Pra ise. 

We come, obedient to Thy word. 

To feast on heavenly food ; 
Our meat, the Body of the Lord ; 

Our drink, His precious Blood. 

Thus would we all Thy words obey ; 

For we, O God, are Thine ; 
And go rejoicing on our way, 

Renewed with strength Divine ! 

Edward Osier. [1836.] 


Lord, when before Thy throne we meet, 

Thy goodness to adore, 
From Heaven, th' eternal mercy-seat. 

On us Thy blessing pour, 
And make our inmost souls to be 
An habitation meet for Thee ! 

The Body for our ransom given ; 

The Blood in mercy shed ; 
With thij immortal food from Heaven, 

Lord ! let our souls be fed ! 
And, as we round Thy table kneel. 
Help us Thy quickenin-g grace to feel ! 

Be Thou, O Holy Spirit, nigh ! 

Accept the humble prayer, 
The contrite soul's repentant sigh, 

The sinner's heartfelt tear ! 
And let our adoration rise, 
As fragrant incense, to the skies ! 

Ano7i. [1853.] 

Holy CoDummion. 313 

yes7t, didcedo corditnn. 
Jesus, thou Joy of loving hearts ! 

Thou Fount of Life ! Thou Light of men ! 
From the best bhss that earth imparts, 
We turn unfill'd to Thee again. 

Thy truth unchanged hath ever stood ; 

Thou savest those that on Thee call ; 
To them that seek Thee, Thou art good, 

To them that find Thee, All in All ! 

We taste Thee, O Thou Living Bread, 
And long to feast upon Thee still ! 

We drink of Thee, the Fountain Head, 
And thirst our souls from Thee to fill ! 

Our restless spirits yearn for Thee, 
Where'er our changeful lot is cast ; 

Glad, when Thy gracious smile we see, 
Blest, when our faith can hold Thee fast. 

O Jesus, ever with us stay ! 

Make all our moments calm and bright ! 
Chase the dark night of sin away, 
Shed o'er the world Thy holy light ! 

Ray Palmer. [1834.] 
From St. Bernard. 

They talk'd of Jesus, as they went ; 

And Jesus, all unknown. 
Did at their side Himself present 

With sweetness all His own. 
Swift, as He op'd the sacred word. 

His glory they discern'd ; 
And swift, as His dear voice they heard, 

Their hearts within them burn'd. 

3 1 4 The Book of Praise. 

He would have left them, but that they 

With prayers His love assail'd : 
" Depart not yet ! a little stay ! " 

They press'd Him, and prevail'd. 
And Jesus was reveal'd, as there 

He bless'd and brake the bread : 
But, while they mark'd His heavenly air, 

The matchless Guest had fled. 

And thus at times, as Christians talk 

Of Jesus and His word, 
He joms two friends amidst their walk. 

And makes, unseen, a third. 
And oh ! how sweet their converse flows, 

Their holy theme how clear, 
How warm with love each bosom glows. 

If Jesus be but near ! 

And they that woo His visits sweet. 

And will not let Him go, 
Oft, while His broken bread they eat. 

His soul-felt presence know : 
His gather'd friends He loves to meet 

And fill with joy their faith. 
When they with melting hearts repeat 

The memory of His death. 

But such sweet visits here are brief; 

Dispensd from stage to stage, 
(A cheering and a prized rehef,) 

Of faith's hard pilgrimage. 
There is a scene where Jesus ne'er, 

Ne'er leaves His happy guests ; 
He spreads a ceaseless banquet there, 

And love still fires their breasts. 

Thomas Grinjield. 1836. 

Holy Cojnmunioii. 315 


Jesus, when near th' expected hour, 

That Hell to grieve Him should have power, 

As on His cross He kept His view, 

Into an upper room withdrew. 

With all His votaries there to meet 

And celebrate the Paschal treat. 

Then He Himself for death disposed ; 
Of dying well the art disclosed ; 
He wash'd with condescension sweet 
And wiped His happy lovers' feet, 
That from pollution cleansed they might 
Approach the Eucharistic rite. 

The Eucharist He then ordain'd ; 
With food immortal them sustain'd ; 
Then sang an hymn,' the feast to close, 
And sweeten His approaching woes. 
Scattering truths heav'nly, high, and sweet. 
As to the Mount He made retreat. 

While death was lively in His thought, 
He heavenly truths with vigour taught. 
How to be loved of God, and love ; 
Promised sweet peace and joys above, 
And the bless'd Spirit's constant aid ; 
And for them all with fervour pray'd. 

He spent His preparation hours 

To warn of dangers and hcU-powers ; 

Their hearts to counsel, strengthen, cheer. 

To arm against degenerate fear ; 

Pure love fraternal to instil, 

And form them to His Father s will. 

3 1 6 The Book of Praise. 

My soul ! O copy every line 

Of this original divine ! 

On Jesus' votaries you must tend ; 

To wash their feet must condescend ; 

You pleasure for sweet Jesus' sake 

In humble charities must take. 

With zeal wash your own spirit clean 
From all concupiscence terrene ; 
When wash'd in penitential dew, 
Then your baptismal vow renew ; 
What Peter wish'd for, wash all o'er, 
And take great care to sin no more. 

Wash'd in heart-purifying tear 

You must at Jesus' feast appear, 

With food immortal to be fed, 

That you nor Hell nor Death may dread ; 

Then sing an hymn of the like strain 

With that above of the Lamb Slain. 

God's love to all with zeal suggest ; 
And from the flame in your own breast 
Fire other hearts, that they the Name 
Of Jesus' friends may humbly claim ; 
From God's love, love fraternal fire. 
In which all Jesus' friends conspire. 

Your foes both pray for, and forgive ; 
And, when you ceasing are to live, 
Strong cries to Love Paternal send ; 
Into Love's hands your soul conlmend ; 
In Love" s soft hands to bliss you'll fly. 
Taught by loved Jesus how to die. 

Bishop Thomas Ken . [ 1 72 1 .] 

Holy Matrimony. 3^7 




The voice that breathed o'er Eden, 
That earhest wedding day, 

The primal marriage blessing, 
It hath not pass'd away. 

Still in the pure espousal 
Of Christian man and maid, 

The Holy Three are with us, 
The three-fold grace is said : 

For dower of blessed children, 
For love and faith's sweet sake. 

For high mysterious union 

Which nought on earth may break 

Be present, awful Father, 

To give away this Bride, 
As Eve thou gav'st to Adam 

Out of his own pierc'd side ! 

Be present. Son of Mary, 
To join their loving hands, 

As Thou didst bind two natures 
In Thine eternal bands ! 

Be present, Holiest Spirit, 
To bless them as they kneel ; 

As Thou, for Christ the Bridegroom, 
The heavenly Spouse dost seal ! 

3 1 8 The Book of Praise. 

O spread Thy pure wing o'er them ! 

Let no ill Power find place, 
When onward to Thine altar 

The hallow'd path they trace. 

To cast their crowns before Thee 

In perfect sacrifice, 
Till to the home of gladness 

With Christ's own Bride they rise ! 

JohnKeble. 1857. 



Thou God of Love ! beneath Thy sheltering wings 

We leave our holy dead, 
To rest in hope ! From this world's sufferings 

Their souls have fled ! 

Oh ! when our hearts are burthen'd with the weight 

Of life, and all its woes. 
Let us remember them, and calmly wait 

To our life's close ! 

Anon 1855. 

A^unc suscipe, terra, fovendtim. 

Receive him, Earth, unto thine harbouring shrine ; 

In thy soft tranquil bosom let him rest ; 
These limbs of man I to thy care consign, 

And trust the noble fragments to thy breast. 

llie Burial of the Dead. 3 1 9 

This house was once the mansion of a soul 
Brought into life by its Creator s breath ; 

Wisdom did once tliis living mass control ; 

And Christ was there enshrined, who conquers 

Cover this Body to thy care consign'd ; 

Its Maker shall not leave it in the grave ; 
But His own lineaments shall bear in mind, 
And shall recall the image which He gave. 

Isaac Williams. 1838. 
{From P?'icdcntius) 


There is a calm for those who weep ; 
A rest for weary pilgrims found ; 
And, while the mouldering ashes sleep, 
Low in the ground, 

The Soul, of origin Divine, 
God's glorious image, freed from clay. 
In Heaven's eternal sphere shall shine, 
A Star of Day. 

The sun is but a spark of fire, 

A transient meteor in the sky ; 

The Soul, immortal as its Sire, 

Shall never die ! 

James Montgomery. 1804. 


Must friends and kindred droop and die, 

And helpers be withdrawn, 
While sorrow, with a weeping eye, 

Counts up our comforts gone ? 

320 The Book of Praise. 

Be Thou our comfort, mighty God ! 

Our Helper and our Friend ! 
Nor leave us, in this dangerous road, 

Till all our trials end ! 

O may our feet pursue the way 

Our pious fathers led ; 
With love and holy zeal obey 

The counsels of the dead ! 

Let us be wean'd from all below ; 

Let hope our grief expel ; 
While death invites our souls to go 

W^here our best kindred dwell. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 


Now let our mourning hearts revive. 

And all our tears be dry ; 
Why should those eyes be drown'd in grief, 

Which view a Saviour nigh ? 

What though the arm of conquering death 
Does God's own house invade ? 

What though the prophet and the priest 
Be number'd with the dead ? 

Though earthly shepherds dwell in dust. 

The aged and the young ; 
The watchful eye in darkness closed, 

And mute th' instructive tongue : 

Th' Eternal Shepherd still survives, 

New comfort to impart ; 
His eye still guides us, and His voice 

Still animates our heart. 

The Burial of the Dead. 321 

Lo, I am with you ! saith the Lord ; 

My Church shall safe abide ; 
For I will ne'er forsake My own, 

Whose souls in Me confide. 

Through every scene, of life and death, 

This promise is our trust; 
And this shall be our children's song 

When we are cold in dust. 

Philip Doddridge. 1 75 5 . 

Thou art gone to the grave : but we will not deplore 
Though sorrows and darkness encompass the 
tomb : 
The Saviour hath pass'd through its portal before 
And the lamp of His tovc is thy guide through the 
gloom 1 

Thou art gone to the grave : we no longer behold 
Nor tread the rough path of the world by thy 
But the wide arms of I\Iercy are spread to enfold 
And sinners may die, for the Sinless has died ! 

Thou art gone to the grave: and, its mansion 
Perhaps thy weak spirit in fear lingcr'd long ; 
But the mild rays of Paradise beanVd on thy 
And the sound which tliou heard'st was the 
Seraphim's song ! 


322 The Book of Praise. 

Thou art gone to the grave : but we will not deplore 
thee ; 
Whose God was thy ransom, thy Guardian, and 
Guide ! 
He gave thee, He took thee, and He will restore 
thee ; 
And death has no sting, for the Saviour has died ! 
Bish op Reginald Heber. 1827. 


Brother, thou art gone before us ; and thy saintly 

soul is flown 
Where tears are wiped from every eye, and sorrow 

is unknown ; 
From the burden of the flesh, and from care and 

fear releas'd, 
Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the 

weary are at rest. 

The toilsome way thou'st travelled o'er, and borne 

the heavy load ; 
But Christ hath taught thy languid feet to reach 

His blest abode : 
Thou rt sleeping now, like Lazarus upon his father's 

Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the 

weary are at rest. 

Sin can never taint thee now, nor doubt thy faith 

Nor thy meek trust in Jesus Christ and the Holy 

Spirit fail : 

Church Dedication. 3^3 

And there thou'rt sure to meet the good, whom on 

earth thou lovedst best, 
Where the wicked cease from troubhng, and the 

weary are at rest. 

Earth to earth, and dust to dust, the solemn priest 

hath said ; 
So we lay the turf above thee now, and we seal thy 

narrow bed ; 
But thy spirit, brother, soars away among the 

faithful blest, 
sVhere the wicked cease from troubling, and the 

weary are at rest. 

And when the Lord shall summon us, whom thou 

hast left behind, 
May we, untainted by the world, as sure a wckome 

May each, like thee, depart in peace, to be a 

glorious guest, 
Where the wicked cease from troubling, and the 

weary are at rest I 

Henry Hart Milman, 1822. 




Lord of hosts ! to Thee wc raise 
Here a house of prayer and praise : 
Thou Thy people's hearts prepare. 
Here to meet for praise and prayer ! 
Y 2 

324 The Book of Praise. 

Let the living here be fed 

With Thy Word, the heavenly bread ; 

Here, in hope of glory blest, 

May the dead be laid to rest i 

Here to Thee a temple stand 
While the sea shall gird the land ! 
Here reveal Thy mercy sure. 
While the sun and moon endure ! 

Hallelujah ! earth and sky 
To the joyful sound reply ! 
Hallelujah ! hence ascend 
Prayer and praise till time shall end ! 

Jmnes Montgomery. 1825. 

Angulare Fiindamentuni. 

Christ is our corner-stone, 
On Him alone we build ; 
With His true saints alone 
The courts of Heaven are fill'd : 
On His great love 
Our hopes we place 
Of present grace 
And joys above. 

O then with hymns of praise 
These hallow'd courts shall ring ; 
Our voices we will raise 
The Three in One to sing ; 
And thus proclaim 
In joyful song 
Both loud and long 
That glorious Name. 

Church Dedication. 325 

Here, gracious God, do Thou 
For evermore draw nigh ; 
Accept each faithful vow. 
And mark each suppHant sigh ; 
In copious shower 
On all who pray 
Each holy day 
Thy blessings pour ! 

Here may we gain from Heaven 
The grace which we implore ; 
And may that grace, once given, 
Be with us evermore. 
Until that day 
When all the blest 
To endless rest 
Are call'd away ! 

John Chandler. 1837. 


The lovely form of God's own Church, 

It riseth in all lands ; 
On mountain sides, in wooded vales. 

And by the desert sands. 

There is it, with its solemn aisles, 

A heavenly, holy thing ; 
And round its walls lie Christian dead, 

Blessedly slumbering. 

Though sects and factions rend the world, 

Peace is its heritage ; 
Unchanged, though empires by it pass. 

The same from age to age. 

326 The Book of Praise. 

The hallow'd form our fathers built. 
That hallo^v'd form build we ; 

Let not one stone from its own place 
Removed ever be ! 

Scoff as thou passest, if thou wilt, 
Thou man that hast no faith ; 

Thou, that no sorrows hast in life, 
Nor blessedness in death : 

But we will build, for all thou scoff, 
And cry, "What waste is this ! " 

The Lord our God hath given us all. 
And all is therefore His. 

Clear voices from above sound out 

Their blessing on the pile ; 
The dead beneath support our hands. 

And succour us the while. 

Vea, when we climb the rising walls, 
Is peace and comfort given ! 

Because the work is not of earth, 
But hath its end in Heaven ! 

Heiuy Alford. 1845, 




Welcome, sweet day, of days the best. 
The time of holy mirth and rest, 

When to God's house the saints repair 
To hear His word and see His face, 
To learn His will and sing His grace. 

And vent their hearts in praise and prayer. 

The Lord's Day. V-1 

This is employment all Divine ; 
My soul, the blest assembly join, 

And from the world this day retire : 
Go, bow before thy Maker's throne, 
Thy risen Saviour's glories own, 

And feed thy love, and fan the fire. 

Forget the trifles here below, 

The shining heap, the gaudy sliow, 

All sensual mirth, and worldly cares ; 
On wings of strong devotion rise. 
Pass every cloud, pass all the skies, 

And leave beneath Thy feet the stars. 

To God direct thy steady flight. 

Great Fund of bliss and Source of light ; 

There fix, and there delight thme eyes : 
View every shining wonder o'er, 
And with transported heart adore, 

And feast on fruits of paradise. 

This day was by our Lord ordain'd, 
That thus His servants might be train'd 

For heavenly work, and heavenly joy : 
My soul, be this thy day of rest, 
And thus prepare thee to be blest. 

Thus all thy holy hours employ ! 

Simon Browne. 1 720. 


O day most calm, most bright ! 
The fruit of this, the next world's bud ; 
The indorsement of supreme delight, 
Writ by a Friend, and with His blood ; 
The couch of time ; care's balm and bay ; 
The week were dark, but for thy light ; 

Thy torch doth show the way. 

328 The Book of Praise. 

The other days and thou 
Make up one man ; whose face thou art, 
Knocking at Heaven with thy brow : 
The working days are the back part ; 
The burden of the week hes there, 
Making the whole to stoop and bow. 

Till thy release appear. 

Man had straight forward gone 
To endless death ; but thou dost pull 
And turn us round to look on One, 
Whom, if we were not very dull, 
We could not choose but look on still, 
Since there is no place so alone, 

The which He doth not fill ! 

Sundays the pillars are 
On which Heav'n's palace arched lies : 
The other days fill up the spare 
And hollow room with vanities : 
They are the fruitful beds and borders 
Of God's rich garden ; that is bare, 

Which parts their ranks and orders. 

The Sundays of man's life, 
Threaded together on time's string, 
Make bracelets to adorn the wife 
Of the eternal glorious King : 
On Sunday Heaven's gate stands ope ; 
Blessings are plentiful and rife, 

More plentiful than hope. 

This day my Saviour rose, 
And did enclose this light for His ; 
That, as each beast his manger knows, 
Man might not of his fodder miss : 

The Loj'd's Day. 329 

Christ hath took in this piece of ground, 
And made a garden there, for those 
Who want herbs for their wound. 

The rest of our Creation 
Our great Redeemer did remove 
With the same shake, which at His passion 
Did th' earth, and all things with it, mov^e : 
As Samson bore the doors away, 
Christ's hands, though nail'd, wrought our salvation, 

And did unhinge that day. 

The brightness of that day 
We sullied by our foul offence ; 
Wherefore that robe we cast away, 
Having a new at His expense. 
Whose drops of blood paid the full price 
That was required to make us gay, 

And fit for Paradise. 

George Herbert. 1632. 


My Lord, my love was crucified. 

He all the pains did bear ; 
But in the sweetness of His rest 

He makes His servants share. 
How sweetly rest Thy saints above 

Wliich in Thy bosom lie ! 
The Church below doth rest in hope 

Of that felicity. 

Thou, Lord, who daily fced'st Thy sheep, 

Mak'st them a weekly feast ; 
Thy flocks meet in their several folds 

Upon this day of rest : 

22^^ The Book of Praise. 

Welcome and dear unto my soul 

Are these sweet feasts of love : 
But what a sabbath shall I keep 

When I shall rest above ! 

I bless Thy wise and wondrous love, 

Which binds us to be free ; 
Which makes us leave our earthly snares, 

That we may come to Thee ! 
I come, I wait, I hear, I pray ! 

Thy footsteps, Lord, I trace ! 
I sing to think this is the way 

Unto my Saviour's face ! 

John Mason. 1683. 


time of tranquil joy and holy feeling f 
When over earth God's Spirit from above 

Spreads out His wings of love ! 
When sacred thoughts, like angels, come appealing 
To our tent doors ; O eve, to earth and heaven 

The sweetest of the seven ! 

How peaceful are thy skies ! thy air is clearer, 
As on the advent of a gracious time : 

The sweetness of its prime 
Blesseth the world, and Eden's days seem nearer : 

1 hear, in each faint stirring of the breeze, 

God's voice among the trees. 

O while thy hallowed moments are distilling 
Their fresher influence on my heart like dews. 

The chamber where I muse 
Turns to a temple ! He, whose converse thrilling 
Honoured Emmaiis, that old eventide. 

Comes sudden to my side. 

The Lord's Day. 33 1 

'Tis light at evening time when Thou art present ; 
Thy coming to the eleven in that dim room 

Brightened, O Christ ! its gloom : 
So bless my lonely hour that memories pleasant 
Around the time a heavenly gleam may cast, 

Which many days shall last ! 

Raise each low aim, refine each high emotion, 
That with more ardent footstep I may press 

Toward Thy holiness ; 
And, braced for sacred duty by devotion, 
Support my cross along that rugged road 

Which Thou hast sometime trod ! 

I long to see Thee, for my heart is weary : 

O when, my Lord ! in kindness wilt Thou come 

To call Thy banished home ? 
The scenes are cheerless, and the days are dreary ; 
From sorrow and from sin I would be free, 

And evermore with Thee ! 

Even now I see the golden city shining 
Up the blue depths of that transparent air : 

How happy all is there ! 
There breaks a day which never knows declining ; 
A Sabbath, through whose circling hours the blest 

Beneath Thy shadow rest ! 

James D. Burns. 1855. 


Psalm XCII. 

Sweet is the work, my God, my King, 
To praise Thy Name, give thanks and sing. 
To show Thy love by morning light, 
And talk of all Thy truth at night. 

332 The Book of Praise. 

Sweet is the day of sacred rest ; 
No mortal cares shall seize my breast ; 
O may my heart in tune be found, 
Like David's harp of solemn sound ! 

My heart shall triumph in my Lord, 
And bless His works, and bless His word : 
Thy works of grace, how bright they shine ! 
How deep Thy counsels, how divine ! 

Fools never raise their thoughts so high, 
Like brutes they live, like brutes they die ; 
Like grass they flourish, till Thy breath 
Blast them in everlasting death. 

But I shall share a glorious part, 
When grace hath well refined my heart. 
And fresh supplies of joy are shed, 
Like holy oil to cheer my head. 

Sin, my worst enemy before. 
Shall vex my eyes and ears no more ; 
My inward foes shall all be slain. 
Nor Satan break my peace again. 

Then shall I see and hear and know 
All I desired or wish'd below, 
And every power find sweet employ 
In that eternal world of joy ! 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 


Psalm LXXXL 

Sing to the Lord, our might. 
With holy fervour sing ; 
Let hearts and instruments unite 
To praise our heavenly King. 

The Lord's Day. 333 

This is His holy house, 
And this His festal day, 
When He accepts the humblest vows 
That we sincerely pay. 

The Sabbath to our sires 
In mercy first was given ; 
The Church her Sabbaths still requires 
To speed her on to Heaven. 

We still, like them of old, 
Are in the -wilderness ; 
And God is still as near His fold, 
To pity and tq bless. 

Then let us open wide 
Our hearts for Him to fill ; 
And He, that Israel then supplied, 
Will help His Israel still. 

Henry Francis Lyte. 1 834 — 1 84 1 . 


The day of rest once more comes round, 

A day to all believers dear ; 
The silver trumpets seem to sound, 
That call the tribes of Israel near ; 
Ye people all, 
Obey the call, 
And in Jehovah's courts appear. 

Obedient to Thy summons, Lord, 
We to Thy sanctuary come ; 

Thy gracious presence here afford, 
And send Thy people joyful home ; 

334 T1ie Book of Praise. 

Of Thee our King 
O may we sing, 
And none with such a theme be dumb ! 

O hasten, Lord, the day when those, 

Who know Thee here, shall see Thy face ; 
When suffering shall for ever close, 

And they shall reach their destined place ; 
Then shall they rest 
Supremely blest. 
Eternal debtors to Thy grace ! 

Thomas Kelly. 1806. 


Hail, thou bright and sacred morn, 
Risen with gladness in thy beams ! 

Light, which not of earth is born, 
From thy dawn in glory streams : 

Airs of Heaven are breath'd around 

And each place is holy ground. 

Sad and weary were our way, 
Fainting oft beneath our load. 

But for thee, thou blessed day. 

Resting-place on life's rough road ! 

Here flow forth the streams of grace, 

Great Creator ! who this day 

From Thy perfect work didst rest 

By the souls that own Thy sway 
HalloVd be its hours and blest ; 

Cares of earth aside be thrown, 

This day giv'n to Heaven alone ! 

The Lord's Day. 335 

Saviour ! who this day didst break 

The dark prison of the tomb ; 
Bid my slumbering soul awake, 

Shine through all its sin and gloom : 
Let me, from my bonds set free, 
Rise from sin, and live to Thee ! 

Blessed Spirit ! Comforter ! 

Sent this day from Christ on high ; 
Lord, on me Thy gifts confer. 

Cleanse, illumine, sanctify! 
All Thine influence shed abroad, 
Lead me to the truth of God ! 

Soon, too soon, the sweet repose 

Of this day of God will cease ; 
Soon this glimpse of Heaven will close, 

Vanish soon the hours of peace ; 
Soon return the toil, the strife, 
All the weariness of life. 

But the rest which yet remains 

For Thy people. Lord, above, 
Knows nor change, nor fears, nor pains, 

Endless as their Saviour's love : 
O may every Sabbath here 
Bring us to that rest more near ! 

yidia Anne Elliott. 1833. 


Lord of the Sabbath ! hear our vows, 
On this Thy day, in this Thy house ; 
And own as grateful sacrifice 
The songs which from the desert rise. 

336 The Book of Praise. 

Thine earthly Sabbaths, Lord, we love ; 
But there's a nobler rest above ; 
To that our labouring souls aspire 
With ardent pangs of strong desire. 

No more fatigue, no more distress ; 
Nor sin nor hell shall reach the place ; 
No groans to mingle with the songs 
Which warble from immortal tongues. 

No rude alarms of raging foes ; 
No cares to break the long repose ; 
No midnight shade, no clouded sun, 
But sacred, high, eternal noon. 

O long-expected day, begin ! 
Dawn on these realms of woe and sin ! 
Fain would we leave this weary road. 
And sleep in death, to rest with God ! 

Ph Hip Doddridge . 1755. 


To Thy temple I repair ; 
Lord, I love to worship there ; 
When, within the veil, I meet 
Christ before the mercy-seat. 

Thou, through Him, art reconciled ; 
I, through Him, became Thy child ; 
Abba, Father ! give me grace 
In Thy courts to seek Thy face ! 

W^hile Thy glorious praise is sung, 
Touch my lips, unloose my tongue. 
That my joyful soul may bless 
Thee, the Lord my Righteousness ! 

The Lord's Day. 337 

While the prayers of saints ascend, 
God of love ! to mine attend ! 
Hear me, for Thy Spirit pleads ; 
Hear, for Jesus intercedes ! 

While 1 hearken to Thy law, 
Fill my soul with humble awe ; 
Till Thy Gospel bring to me 
Life and immortality : 

While Thy ministers proclaim 
Peace and pardon in Thy Name, 
Through their voice, by faith, may I 
Hear Thee speaking from the sky ! 

From Thy house when I return. 
May my heart within me burn ; 
And at evening let me say, 
I have walk'd with God to-day ! 

James Montgomery. 1825, 


Ere another Sabbath's close, 
Ere again we seek repose, 
Lord ! our song ascends to Thee ; 
At Thy feet we bow the knee. 

For the mercies of the day, 
For this rest upon our way. 
Thanks to Thee alone be given, 
Lord of earth, and King of Heaven ! 

Cold our services have been ; 
Mingled every prayer with sin ; 
But Thou canst and wilt forgive ; 
By Thy grace alone we live ! 

338 The Book of Praise. 

Whilst this thorny path we tread, 
May Thy love our footsteps lead ! 
When our journey here is past, 
May we rest with Thee at last ! 

Let these earthly Sabbaths prove 
Foretastes of our joys above ; 
While their steps Thy pilgrims bend 
To the rest which knows no end ! 

A7ion, [1833-] 


Of Thy love some gracious token 

Grant us, Lord, before we go ; 
Bless Thy word which has been spoken ; 

Life and peace on all bestow ! 
When we join the world again, 
Let our hearts with Thee remain : 
O direct us 
And protect us. 
Till we gain the heavenly shore. 
Where Thy people want no more ! 

Thomas Kelly. 1 804. 




&^t §00li oi praise. 




'' Rise; He callcth //zc-6'."— (Mark x. 49.) 


Child of sin and sorrow, 

Fill'd with dismay, 
Wait not for to-morrow, 

Yield thee to-day ! 

Heaven bids thee come 

While yet there's room : 
Child of sin and sorrow, 

Hear, and obey ! 

Child of sin and sorrow. 

Why wilt thou die ? 
Come, while thou canst borrow 

Help from on high! 

Grieve not that love 

Which from above. 
Child of sin and sorrow. 

Would bring thee nigh ! 

Thomas Hastings. 1 8 54. 

342 The Book of Pi'aise. 


Poor child of sin and woe, 
Now listen to thy Father's pleading voice ; 

No longer need'st thou go 
Without a friend to bid thy heart rejoice. 

I know thou canst not rest 
Until thou art from guilt and sorrow free ; 

Earth cannot make thee blest ; 
Come, bring thy suffering, bleeding heart to Me. 

How often, in the hour 
Of weariness, would I have succoured thee ! 

But thou didst spurn the power, 
And scorn the heart that loved so tenderly. 

Oh, what on earth aprpears 
To comfort thy distress and heal thy grief, 

To dry thy bitter tears. 
And offer thy poor sinking soul relief '^. 

Thy life of sin has been 
A toilsome path, without one cheering ray ; 

Now on thy Father lean, 
And He will guide thee in a better way. 

Come, leave the desert land. 
And all the husks on which thy soul has fed ; 

And trust the faithful Hand 
That offers thee a feast of living Bread. 

O sinner ! 'tis the voice 
Of One, who long has loved and pitied thee ! 

He would thy heart rejoice. 
And set thee from all sin and suffering free. 

The Call. 343 

Oh, canst thou turn away ? 
It is thy Father that invites thee near ! 

Nay, sinner ! weep and pray ! 
And Heaven shall hail the penitential tear ! 

Eliza Famiy Morris. 1858. 


Return, O wanderer, to thy home ; 

Thy Father calls for thee : 
No longer now an exile roam, 

In guilt and misery : 
Return, return ! 

Return, O wanderer, to thy home ; 

"Tis Jesus calls for thee : 
The Spirit and the Bride say, Come : 

O now for refuge flee ; 
Return, return ! 

Return, O wanderer, to thy home ; 

'Tis madness to delay ; 
There are no pardons in the tomb, 
And brief is merc)^s day : 
Return, return ! 

TJiomas Hastings, 1834. 


Haste, traveller, haste ! the night comes on, 
And many a shining hour is gone ; 
The storm is gathering in the west, 
And thou art far from home and rest ; 

Haste, traveller, haste I 

344 The Book of Praise. 

O far from home thy footsteps stray ; 
Christ is the Life, and Christ the Way ; 
And Christ the Light, thy seciing Sun, 
Sinks ere thy morning is begun : 

Haste, traveiier, haste ! 

Awake, awake ! pursue thy way 
With steady course, while yet 'tis day ; 
While thou art sleeping on the ground, 
Danger and darkness gather round ; 

Haste, traveller, haste ! 

The rising tempest sweeps me sky ; 
The rains descend, the winds are high ; 
The waters swell, and death and fear 
Beset thy path, nor refuge near ; 

Haste, traveller, haste ! 

O yes ! a shelter you may gain, 
A covert from the wind and rain, 
A hiding-place, a rest, a home, 
A refuge from the wrath to come ; 

Haste, traveller, haste ! 

Then linger not in all the plain. 
Flee for thy life, the mountain gain ; 
Look not behind, make no delay, 
O speed thee, speed thee on thy way ; 

Haste, traveller, haste ! 

Poor, lost, benighted soul ! art thou 
Willing to find salvation now ? 
There yet is hope ; hear mercy's call ; 
Truth ! Life ! Light ! Way ! in Christ is all ! 
Haste to Him, haste I 
William Be7i^o Collyer. [1829.] 

The Call 345 


Just as fhou art, without one trace 
Of love or joy or inward grace, 
Or meetness for the heavenly place, 

O guilty sinner, come ! 

Burden'd with guilt, wouldst thou be blest ? 
Trust not the world, it gives no rest ; 
Christ brings reUef to hearts opprest ; 

O weary sinner, come ! 

Come, leave thy burden at the cross ; 
Count all thy gains but worthless dross ; 
His grace o'erpays all earthly loss ; 

O needy sinner, come ! 

Come hither ! bring thy boding fears, 
Thy aching heart, thy bursting tears ; 
'Tis Mercy's voice salutes thine ears ; 

O trembhng sinner, come ! 
Anon. [1862. J 


Rev. xxii. 17. 

Sweet is the Spirit's strain ; 
BreatlVd by soft pleadings inly heard, 
By all the heart's deep fountains stirr d, 
By conscience, and the written Word ; 

Come, wanderers, home again ! 

346 The Book of Praise. 

The Bride repeats the call ; 
By high thanksgiving, lowly prayer, 
By days of rest, and fostering care, 
By holy rites, that all may share ; 

She whispers. Come ! to all. 

Let him who hears say, Come ! 
If thou hast been sin's wretched slave ; 
If thou art risen from that grave ; 
Thy sleeping brethren seek to save, 

And call the wanderers home. 

And let all come, who thirst ! 
Freely for every child of w^oe 
The streams of living waters flow ; 
And whosoever will, may go 

Where healing fountains burst. 

There drink and be at rest ; 
On Him who died for thee believe ; 
The Spirit's quickening grace receive ; 
No more the God who seeks thee grieve ; 

Be holy, and be blest ! 

Joseph A Jistice. [ 1 83 6 . ] 


With tearful eyes I look around ; 

Life seems a dark and stormy sea ; 
Yet midst the gloom I hear a sound, 

A heavenly whisper. Come to Me ! 

It tells me of a place of rest ; 

It tells me where my soul may flee : 
Oh ! to the weary, faint, opprest. 

How sweet the bidding. Come to Me ! 

The Call. 347 

When the poor heart with anguish learns 
That earthly props resign'd must be, 

And from each broken cistern turns, 
It hears the accents, Come to Me ! 

When against sin I strive in vain, 
And cannot from its yoke get free. 

Sinking beneath the heavy chain, 
The words arrest me, Come to Me ! 

When nature shudders, loth to part 
From all I love, enjoy, and see ; 

When a faint chill steals o'er my heart, 
A sweet voice utters, Come to Me ! 

Come, for all else must fail and die ; 

Earth is no resting-place for thee ; 
Heavenward direct thy weeping eye ; 

I am thy Portion ; Come to Me ! 

O voice of mercy, voice of love ! 

In conflict, grief, and agony, 
Support me, cheer me from above, 

And gently whisper, Come to me ! 

Charlotte ElliotL 1834- 


Come, take my yoke, the Saviour said 
To follow Me be not afraid ; 
For I in heart am lowly, meek, 
And offer you the rest you seek. 

The yoke of Pleasure may allure, 
And promise bliss that will endure ; 
But, when it has thy youth despoil'd, 
'Twill cast thee off as garment soil'd. 

34^ The Book of Praise. 

Take not on thee the yoke of Wealth ; 
'Twill eat thy soul, destroy thy health, 
And make thee feel how cheap the cost, 
If worlds could buy the peace it lost. 

Ambition, too, its yoke displays. 
And hangs out its perennial bays ; 
Be not, poor soul, by it misled ; 
I offer thee a crown instead. 

Then take my yoke, 'tis soft and light, 
'Twill ne'er disturb thy rest at night. 
But guide thee to that world above 
Where no restraint is known but love. 

Robert Smith. 1862. 


Behold ! a Stranger's at the door \ 
He gently knocks, has knock'd before; 
Has waited long, is waiting still ; 
You treat no other friend so ill. 

But will He prove a Friend indeed ? 
He will ! the very Friend you need ! 
The Man of Nazareth, 'tis He, 
With garments dyed at Calvary. 

Oh lovely attitude ! He stands 
With melting heart, and laden hands ! 
Oh matchless kindness ! and He shows 
This matchless kindness to His foes. 

Rise, touch'd with gratitude Divine ; 
Turn out His enemy and thine, 
That hateful, hell-born monster, Sin ; 
And let the Heavenly Stranger in. 

The Call. 349 

If thou art poor, (and poor thou art,;) 
Lo ! He has riches to impart ; 
Not wealth, in which mean av'rice rolls ; 
O better far ! the wealth of souls ! 

Thou'rt blind ; He'll take the scales away, 
And let in everlasting day : 
Naked thou art ; but He shall dress 
Thy blushing soul in Righteousness. 

Art thou a weeper ? Grief shall fly ; 
For who can weep with Jesus by ? 
No terror shall thy hopes annoy ; 
No tear, except the tear of joy. 

Admit Him, for the human breast 
Ne'er entertain'd so kind a Guest : 
Admit Him, for you can't expel ; 
Where'er He comes. He comes to dwell. 

Admit Him, ere His anger burn ; 
His feet, departed, ne'er return ! 
Admit Him ; or the hour's at hand, 
When at His door denied you'll stand. 

Yet know, (nor of the terms complain,) 
If Jesus comes. He comes to reign ; 
To reign, and with no partial sway ; 
Thoughts must be slain, that disobey ! 

Sovereign of souls ! Thou Prince of Peace ! 
O may Thy gentle reign increase ! 
Throw wide the door, each willing mind ! 
And be His empire all mankind ! 

Joseph Grigg. 1765- 

350 The Book of Praise. 

The winds were howling o'er the deep, 

Each wave a watery hill ; 
The Saviour waken'd from His sleep ; 

He spake, and all was still. 

The madman in a tomb had made 

His mansion of despair : 
Woe to the traveller who stray'd 

With heedless footstep tJiere ! 

The chains hung broken from his ann, 
Such strength can hell supply ; 

And fiendish hate, and fierce alarm, 
Flash'd from his hollow eye. 

He met that glance, so thrilling sweet ; 

He heard those accents mild ; 
And, melting at Messiah's feet, 

Wept like a weaned child. 

Oh ! madder than the raving man ! 

Oh ! deafer than the sea ! 
How long the time since Christ began 

To call in vain on me ! 

He call'd me when my thoughtless prime 

Was early ripe to ill ; 
I pass'd from folly on to crime ; 

And yet He call'd me still. 

He call'd me in the time of dread. 
When death was full in view ; 

I trembled on my feverish bed. 
And rose to sin anew. 

The Call. 351 

Yet, could I hear Him once again, 

As I have heard of old, 
Mcthinks He should not call in vain 

His wanderer to the fold. 

Oh Thou ! that every thought canst know, 

And answer every prayer. 
Oh ! give me sickness, want, or woe ; 

But snatch me from despair ! 

My struggling will by grace control ! 

Renew my broken vow ! 
What blessed light breaks on my soul ? 

My God ! I hear Thee now ! 

Bishop Reginald Heber. 1827. 

" Was du vor tausend JahrenT 

A thousand years have fleeted ; 

And, Saviour ! still we see 
Thy deed of love repeated 

On all who come to Thee. 
As he who sat benighted, 

Afflicted, poor, and blind ; 
So now, (Thy word is plighted,) 

Joy, light, and peace I find. 

Dnrk gloom my spirit filling. 

Beside the way I sat ; 
Desire my heart was thrilling ; 

But anguish more than that. 

352 The Book of Praise. 

To me no ray was granted, 
Although I heard the psahns 

The faithful sweetly chanted, 
And felt the waving palms. 

With grief my heart was aching ; 

O'erwhelming were my woes, 
Till, heaven-born courage taking, 

To Thee my cry arose : 
" O David's Son, relieve me, 

" My bitter anguish quell ; 
" Thy promised succour give me, 

"And this dark night dispel !" 

With tears that fast were flowing, 

I sought Thee through the crowd, 
My heart more tender growing, 

Until I wept aloud : 
Oh ! then my grief diminish'd ; 

For then they cried to me, 
" Blind man, thy woe is finish'd ; 

"Arise, He calleth thee!" 

I came with steps that falter'd ; 

Thy course I felt Thee check ; 
Then straight my mind was alter'd, 

And bow'd my stubborn neck : 
Thou saidst, " What art thou seeking ?" 

" O Lord ! that I might see ! " 
Oh ! then I heard Thee speaking ; 

" Beheve, and it shall be." 

Our hope, Lord, faileth never. 

When Thou Thy word dost plight : 

M)' fears then ceased for ever. 
And all my soul was light. 

The Call. 353 

Thou gavest me Thy blessing ; 

From former guilt set free, 
Now neavenly joy possessing, 
O Lor^l ! I follow Thee ! 

Frances Elizabeth Cox. 1 84 r . 
From Frederic de la Motte Foiique. 


I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

" Come unto Me and rest ; 
'* Lay down, thou weary one, lay down 

" Thy head upon My breast ! " 
I came to Jesus as I was, 

Weary, and worn, and sad ; 
T found in Him a resting-place, 

And He has made me glad. 

I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

" Behold ! I freely give 
*' The living water ; thirsty one, 

" Stoop down, and drink, and live ! 
I came to Jesus, and I drank 

Of that life-giving stream ; 
My thirst was quench'd, my soul revived, 

And now I live in Him. 

I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

" I am this dark world's light ; 
"Look unto Me, thy morn shall rise, 

" And all thy day be bright." 
I look'd to Jesus, and I found 

In Him my Star, my Sun ; 
And in that light of life 111 walk 

Till travelling days are done. 

Jloratius Boiiar. 1S56. 
A A 

354 The Book of Praise. 

In evil long I took delight, 

Unawed by shame or fear, 
Till a new object struck my sight. 

And stopp'd my wild career : 
I saw One hanging on a Tree, 
• In agonies and blood, 

Who fix'd His languid eyes on me, 
As near His Cross I stood. 

Sure never till my latest breath 

Can I forget that look : 
It seem'd to charge me with His death, 

Though not a word He spoke : 
My conscience felt and own'd the guilt, 

And plunged me in despair ; 
I saw my sins His Blood had spilt. 

And help'd to nail Him there. 

Alas ! I knew not what I did ! 

But now my tears are vain : 
Where shall my trembling soul be hid ? 

For I the Lord have slain ! 
A second look He gave, which said, 

" I freely all forgive ; 
" This Blood is for thy ransom paid ; 

" I die, that thou may'st live." 

Thus, while His death my sin displays 

In all its blackest hue. 
Such is the mystery of grace. 

It seals my pardon too. 
With pleasing grief, and mournful joy, 

My spirit now is fill'd, 
That I should such a life destroy. 

Yet live by Him I kill'd. ^ 

J oh n Newton . iyj()' 

T^he Answer. 355 



'' I will arise, and go to my Father r—{UjK^ xv. 1 8.) 


And have I measured half my days, 

And half my journey run, 
Nor tasted the Redeemer's grace, 

Nor yet my work begun ? 

The morning of my life is past. 

The noon is almost o'er ; 
The night of death approaches fast, 

When I can work no more. 

Darkness He makes His secret place, 
Thick clouds surround His Throne ; 

Nor can I yet behold His face. 
Or find the God Unknown. 

A God that hides Himself He is. 

Far off from mortal sight ; 
An inaccessible Abyss 

Of uncreated Light. 

Far off He is, yet always near ; 

He fills both earth and Heaven, 
But doth not to my soul appear, 

My soul from Eden driven. 

O'er earth a banish'd man I rove, 
But cannot feci Him nigh : 
^ Where is the pardonnig God of Love, 
' Who stoop'd for me to die ? 
A A 2 

356 The Book of Praise. 

I sought Him in the secret cell 

With unavaiHng care : 
Long did I in the desert dwell, 

Nor could I find Him there. 

Still every means in vain I try ; 

I seek Him far and near ; 
Where'er I come, constrain'd to cry, 

" My Saviour is not here." 

God is in this, in every place : 

Yet oh ! how dark and void 
To me ! 'tis one great wilderness, 

This earth without my God ! 

Empty of Him, who all things fills, 

Till He His Light impart, 
Till He His glorious Self reveals. 

The veil is on my heart, 

O Thou, who seest and know'st my grief, 

Thyself Unseen, Unknown ! 
Pity my helpless unbelief, 

And take away the stone ! 

Regard me with a gracious eye ; 

The long-sought blessing give ; 
And bid me, at the point to die, 

Behold Thy face, and live ! 

A darker soul did never yet 

Thy promised help implore : 
O ! that I now my Lord might meet, 

And never lose Him more ! 

Charles Wesley. 1749. 

The A?iswer. 357 


O Thou, whose tender mercy hears 

Contrition's humble sigh, 
Whose hand indulgent wipes the tears 

From sorrow's weeping eye ; 

See, low before Thy throne of grace, 

A wretched wanderer mourn ; 
Hast Thou not bid mc seek Thy face ? 

Hast Thou not said, Return ? 

And shall my guilty fears prevail 

To drive me from Thy feet ? 
Oh ! let not this dear refuge fail, 

This only safe retreai ! 

Absent from Thee, my Guide, my Light, 

Without one cheering ray. 
Through dangers, fears, and gloomy night, 

How desolate my way ! 

O shine on this benighted heart. 

With beams of mercy shine ! 
And let Thy healing voice impart 

A taste of joys Divine ! 

Thy presence only can bestow 

Delights which never cloy : 
Be this my solace here below, 

And my eternal joy ! 

Anne Steele. 1760. 

353 The Book of Praise. 


When shall Thy love constrain 
And force me to Thy breast ? 
When shall my soul return again 
To her eternal rest ? 

Ah ! what avails my strife, 
My wandering to and fro ? 
Thou hast the words of endless life ; 
Ah ! whither should I go ? 

Thy condescending grace 
To me did freely move ; 
It calls me still to seek Thy face, 
And stoops to ask my love. 

Lord ! at Thy feet I fall ; 
I groan to be set free ; 
I fain would now obey the call, 
And give up all for Thee. 

Though late, I all forsake, 
My friends, my life resign : 
Gracious Redeemer, take, O take. 
And seal me ever Thine ! 

Come, and possess me whole. 
Nor hence again remove : 
Settle, and fix my wavering soul 
With all Thy weight of love ! 

My one desire be this. 
Thy only love to know. 
To seek and taste no other bliss, 
No other good below. 

The Answer. 359 

My Life, my Portion Thou, 
Thou all-sufficient art ; 
My Hope, my heavenly Treasure, now 
Enter, and keep my heart ! 

Charles Wesley. 1740. 


My spirit longeth for Thee 
Within my troubled breast, 

Although I be unworthy 
Of so Divine a Guest. 

Of so Divine a Guest 

Unworthy though I be, 
Yet has my heart no rest 

Unless it come from Thee. 

Unless it come from Thee, 

In vain 1 look around ; 
In all that I can see 

No rest is to be found. 

No rest is to be found 
But in Thy blessed love : 

O let my wish be crown'd, 
And send it from above ! 

John Byrom. 1773. 

Weary of wandering from my God, 

And now made willing to return, 
I hear, and bow me to the rod ; 

For Him, not without hope, I mourn 
I have an Advocate above, 
A friend before the Throne of Love. 

360 The Book of P7'aise. 

O Jesu, full of pardoning grace, 
More full of grace than I of sin ; 

Yet once again I seek Thy face, 
Open Thine arms and take me in, 

And freely my backslidings heal, 

And love the faithless sinner still ! 

Thou know'st the way to bring me back, 

My fallen spirit to restore ; 
O, for Thy Truth and Mercy's sake. 

Forgive, and bid me sin no more ! 
The ruins of my soul repair. 
And make my heart an house of prayer ! 

The stone to flesh again convert. 
The veil of sin once more remove ; 

Drop Thy warm Blood upon my heart, 
And melt it with Thy dying love : 

This rebel heart by love subdue, 

And make it soft, and make it new ! 

Give to mine eyes refreshing tears, 
And kindle my relentings now ; 

Fill all my soul with filial fears. 
To Thy sweet yoke my spirit bow ; 

Bend by Thy grace, O ! bend, or break 

The iron sinew in my neck ! 

Ah ! give me, Lord, the tender heart. 
That trembles at th' approach of sin ; 

A godly fear of sin impart. 

Implant, and root it deep within ; 

That I may dread Thy gracious power. 

And never dare offend Thee more ! 

Charles Wesley. 1749. 

The Ajtswer. 361 


Hear, gracious God ! a sinners cry. 
For I have nowhere else to fly ; 
My hope, my only hope's in Thee ; 
O God, be merciful to me ! 

To Thee I come, a sinner poor, 
And wait for mercy at Thy door ; 
Indeed, I've nowhere else to flee : 
O God, be merciful to me ! 

To Thee I come, a sinner weak, 
And scarce know how to pray or speak ; 
From fear and weakness set me free ; 
O God, be merciful to me ! 

To Thee I come, a sinner vile ; 
Upon mc. Lord, vouchsafe to smile ! 
Mercy alone I make my plea ; 
O God, be merciful to me ! 

To Thee I come, a sinner great. 
And well Thou knowest all my state ; 
Yet full forgiveness is with Thee ; 
O God, be merciful to me ! 

To Thee I come, a sinner lost, 
Nor have I ought wherein to trust ; 
But where Thou art, Lord, I would be ; 
O God, be merciful to me ! 

To glory bring me, Lord, at last ; 
And there, when all my fears are past. 
With all the saints I'll then agree, 
God has been merciful to me ! 

Samuel Medley. 1 789. 

362 The Book of Praise. 


Hear, gracious God ! my humble moan ; ' 

To Thee I breathe my sighs : 
When will the mournful night be gone, 

And when my joys arise ? 

My God ! Oh ! could I make the claim, 

My Father and my Friend ! 
And call Thee mine, by every name 

On which Thy saints depend ; 

By every name of power and love 

I would Thy grace entreat ; 
Nor should my humble hopes remove, 

Nor leave Thy sacred seat. 

Yet, though my soul in darkness mourns, 

Thy word is all my stay ; 
Here I would rest till light returns. 

Thy Presence makes my day. 

Speak, Lord, and bid celestial peace 

Relieve my aching heart ! 
O smile, and bid my sorrows cease, 

And all the gloom depart ! 

Then shall my drooping spirit rise, 

And bless Thy healing rays. 
And change these deep complaining sighs 

For songs of sacred praise ! 

Amie Steele. 1760. 

The Ansive?'. 363 


And shall I sit alone, 
Oppress'd with grief and fear, 
To God my Father make my moan. 
And He refuse to hear ? 

If He my Father be. 
His pity He will show, 
From cruel bondage set me free. 
And inward peace bestow. 

If still He silence keep, 
'Tis but my faith to try ; 
He knows and feels, whene'er I weep, 
And softens every sigh. 

Then will I humbly wait, 
Nor once indulge despair ; 
My sins are great, but not so great 
As His compassions are. 

Be?ijainin Bcddome. [18 18. J 


O that my load of sin were gone ! 

O that I could at last submit 
At Jesus' feet to lay it down, 

To lay my soul at Jesus' feet ! 

When shall mine eyes behold the Lamb, 
The God of my salvation see ? 

Weary, O Lord, Thou know'st I am ; 
Yet still I cannot come to Thee. 

Rest for my soul I long to find ; 

Saviour ! (if mine indeed Thou art,) 
Give me Thy meek and lowly mind, 

And stamp Thy image on my heart ! 

364 The Book of Praise. 

Fain would I learn of Thee, my God, 
Thy light and easy burden prove, 

The cross, all stain'd with hallow'd blood- 
The labour of Thy dying love. 

This moment would I take it up, 
And after my dear Master bear ; 

With Thee ascend to Calvary's top, 
And bow my head and suffer there. 

I would ; but Thou must give the power, 
My heart from every sin release : 

Bring near, bring near the joyful hour, 
And fill me with Thy perfect peace ! 

Come, Lord, the drooping sinner cheer, 
Nor let Thy chariot-wheels delay ! 

Appear, in my poor heart appear ! 
My God, my Saviour, come away ! 

Charles Wesley. 1742. 


Come, let us to the Lord our God 
With contrite hearts return ; 

Our God is gracious, nor will leave 
The desolate to mourn. 

His voice commands the tempest forth. 

And stills the stormy wave ; 
And, though His arm be strong to smite, 

'Tis also strong to save. 

Long hath the night of sorrow reign'd ; 

The dawn shall bring us light ; 
God shall appear, and we shall rise 

With gladness in His sight. 

Faith. 365 

Our hearts, if God we seek to know, 

Shall know Him, and rejoice ; 
His coming Hke the morn shall be. 

Like morning songs His voice. 

As dew upon the tender herb, 

Diffusing fragrance round ; 
As showers that usher in the spring, 

And cheer the thirsty ground ; 

So shall His Presence bless our souls, 

And shed a joyful light ; 
That hallow'd morn shall chase away 

The sorrows of the night. 

John Morrison, 1 770. 



" Looking unto Jesus, the A uthor and Finisher of 
our Faithr—i^iYAi. xii. 2.) 


Come, O thou Traveller unknown, 
Whom still I hold, but cannot see, 

My company before is gone, 
And I am left alone with Thee ; 

With Thee all night I mean to stay, 

And wrestle till the break of day. 

I need not tell Thee who I am. 

My misery or sin declare ; 
Thyself hast call'd me by my name ; 

Look on Thy hands, and read it there ! 
But Wlio, I ask Thee, Who art Thou t 
Tell me Thy Name, and tell me now. 

■566 The Book of Praise. 

In vain Thou strugglest to get free, 
I never will unloose my hold ; 

Art Thou the Man that died for me ? 
The secret of Thy love unfold. 

Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, 

Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 

Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal 
Thy new, unutterable Name ? 

Tell me, I still beseech Thee, tell : 
To know it now, resolved I am : 

Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, 

Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 

'Tis all in vain to hold Thy tongue, 
Or touch the hollow of my thigh ; 

Though every sinew be unstrung, 
Out of my arms Thou shalt not fly : 

Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, 

Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 

What though my shrinking flesh complain, 
And murmur to contend so long ? 

I rise superior to my pain ; 

When I am weak, then I am strong : 

And when my all of strength shall fail, 

I shall with the God-Man prevail. 

My strength is gone ; my nature dies ; 

I sink beneath Thy weighty hand, 
Faint to revive, and fall to rise ; 

I fall, and yet by faith I stand : 
I stand, and will not let Thee go. 
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 

Faith. 367 

Yield to me now, for I am weak, 

But confident in self-despair ; 
Speak to my heart, in blessings speak, 

Be conquer'd by my instant prayer ! 
Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move, 
And tell me, if Thy Name is Love ? 

'Tis Love ! 'tis Love ! Thou diedst for me J 
I hear Thy whisper in my heart ! 

The morning breaks, the shadows flee ; 
Pure universal Love Thou art ! 

To me, to all. Thy bowels move ; 

Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love ! 

My prayer hath power with God ; the grace 

Unspeakable I now receive ; 
Through faith I see Thee face to face, 

I see Thee face to face, and live : 
In vain I have not wept and strove ; 
Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love. 

I know Thee, Saviour, Who Thou art ; 

Jesus, the feeble sinner's Friend ! 
Nor wilt Thou with the night depart, 

But stay, and love me to the end ! 
Thy mercies never shall remove. 
Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love ! 

The Sun of Righteousness on me 

Hath rose, with healing in His wings ; 

Wither'd my nature's strength, from Thee 
I\Ty soul its life and succour brings ; 

My help is all laid up above ; 

Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love. 

368 The Book of Praise. 

Contented now upon my thigh 

I halt, till life's short journey end ; 

All helplessness, all weakness, I 

On Thee alone for strength depend ; 

Nor have I power from Thee to move ; 

Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love. 

Lame as I am, I take the prey. 

Hell, earth, and sin, with ease o'ercome ; 

I leap for joy, pursue my way. 

And as a bounding hart fly home ! 

Through all eternity to prove, 

Thy Nature and Thy Name is Love ! 

Charles Wesley. 1742. 


Hark, my soul ! it is the Lord, 
'Tis thy Saviour, hear His word : 
Jesus speaks, and speaks to thee ; 
" Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou Me ? 

" I delivered thee when bound, 
" And, when bleeding, heal'd thy wound 
" Sought thee wandering, set thee right, 
" Turn'd thy darkness into light. 

" Can a woman's tender care 

" Cease towards the child she bare 1 

" Yes, she may forgetful be ; 

" Yet will I remember thee ! 

" Mine is an unchanging love, 
" Higher than the heights above, 
" Deeper than the depths beneath, 
" Free and faithful, strong as death. 

Faith. 369 

" Thou shalt see my glory soon, 
" When the work of grace is done ; 
" Partner of my throne shalt be ; 
" Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou Me ?" 

Lord ! it is my chief complaint, 
That my love is weak and faint ; 
Yet I love Thee and adore ! 
Oh ! for grace to love Thee more ! 

Williajn Cow per. 1779- 


And can it be, that I should gain 
An interest in the Saviour's blood ? 

Died He for me, who caus'd His pain, 
For me, who Him to death pursued ? 

Amazing Love ! how can it be. 

That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me ? 

Tis mystery all ! Th' Immortal dies ! 

Who can explore His strange design ? 
In vain the first-born seraph tries 

To sound the depths of Love Divine. 
'Tis mercy all ! Let earth adore ! 
Let angel minds enquire no more ! 

He left His Father s throne above, 
(So free, so infinite His grace ;) 

Emptied Himself of all but love, 
And bled for Adam's helpless race. 

'Tis mercy all, immense and free ! 

For O, my God ! it found out me ! 

B 15 

370 The Book of Praise. 

Long my imprison'd spirit lay, 

Fast bound in sin and nature's night ; 

Thine eye diffus'd a quickening ray ; 
I woke ; the dungeon flam'd with hght : 

My chains fell off, my heart was free, 

I rose, went forth, and follow'd Thee ! 

Still the small inward voice I hear, 
That whispers all my sins forgiven ; 

Still the atoning Blood is near, 
That quench'd the wrath of hostile Heaven ; 

I feel the life His wounds impart ; 

I feel my Saviour in my heart. 

No condemnation now I dread ; 

Jesus, and all in Him, is mine ! 
Alive in Him, my living Head, 

And cloth'd in righteousness Divine, 
Bold I approach th' Eternal Throne, 
And claim the crown, through Christ my own. 
Charles Wesley. 1739. 

Now I have found the ground wherein 

Sure my soul's anchor may remain ; 
The wounds of Jesus, for my sin 

Before the world's foundation slain ; 
Whose mercy shall unshaken stay 
When heaven and earth are fled away. 

Father, Thine everlasting grace 
Our scanty thought surpasses far ; 

Thy heart still melts with tenderness ; 
Thine arms of love still open are. 

Returning sinners to receive, 

That mercy they may taste and live. 

Faith. 371 

O Love ! Thou bottomless abyss ! 

My sins are swallow'd up in thee : 
Cover'd is my unrighteousness, 

Nor spot of guilt remains on me : 
While Jesus' Blood, through earth and skies, 
Mercy, free boundless mercy, cries ! 

With faith I plunge me in this sea ; 

Here is my hope, my joy, my rest ; 
Hither, when hell assails, I flee, 

I look into my Saviour's breast : 
Away, sad doubt, and anxious fear ! 
Mercy is all that's written there ! 

Though waves and storms go o'er my head ; 

Though strength, and health, and friends be gone ; 
Though joys be wither'd all and dead ; 

Though every comfort be withdrawn ; 
On this my steadfast soul relies ; 
Father ! Thy mercy never dies. 

Fix'd on this ground will I remain, 

Though my heart fail and flesh decay ; 
This anchor shall my soul sustain, 

When earth's foundations melt away : 
Mercy's full power I then shall prove, 
Loved with an everlasting love. 

John We shy. 1740. 
{From J. A. Rathe) 


O Thou, the contrite sinners' Friend, 
Who loving, lov'st them to the end, 
On this alone my hopes depend, 
That Thou wilt plead for me ! 
R 15 2 

372 The Book of Pi'aise. 

When, weary in the Christian race, 

Far off appears my resting-place. 

And fainting I mistrust Thy grace, 

Then, Saviour, plead for me ! 

When I have err'd and gone astray 
Afar from Thine and Wisdom's way, 
And see no glimmering guiding ray, 
Still, Saviour, plead for me ! 

When Satan, by my sins made bold, 
Strives from Thy cross to loose my hold. 
Then with Thy pitying arms enfold. 
And plead, O plead for me ! 

And when my dying hour draws near, 
Darken'd with anguish, guilt, and fear, 
Then to my fainting sight appear, 
Pleading in Heaven for me ! 

When the full light of heavenly day 
Reveals my sins in dread array. 
Say Thou hast wash'd them all away ; 
O say. Thou plead'st for me ! 

Charlotte Elliott. [1837.] 


O Holy Saviour, Friend unseen, 
The faint, the weak, on Thee may lean : 
Help me, throughout life's varying scene, 
By faith to chng to Thee ! 

Blest with communion so Divine, 
Take what Thou wilt, shall I repine, 
When, as the branches to the vine, 
My soul may cling to Thee ? 

Faith. 373 

Far from her home, fatigued, opprcst. 
Here she has found a place of rest, 
An exile still, yet not unblest 
While she can cling to Thee ) 

Without a murmur I dismiss 
My former dreams of earthly bliss ; 
My joy, my recompense be this, 
Each hour to chng to Thee ! 

What though the world deceitful prove, 
And earthly friends and joys remove ? 
With patient uncomplaining love 
Still would I cling to Thee ! 

Oft when I seem to tread alone 
Some barren waste with thorns o'ergrown, 
A voice of lore, in gentlest tone. 
Whispers, " Still cling to Me ! " 

Though faith and hope awhile be tried, 
I ask not, need not, aught beside : 
How safe, how calm, how satisfied, 
The souls that cling to Thee ! 

They fear not life's rough storms to brave, 
Since Thou art near, and strong to save ; 
Nor shudder e'en at death's dark wave ; 
Because they cling to Thee ! 

Blest is my lot, whate'cr befal : 
What can disturb mc, who appal, 
While, as my strength, my rock, my all. 
Saviour ! I cling to Thee ? 

Charlotte Elliott. 1834. 

374 The Book of Praise. 


Jesu, my strength, my hope, 

On Thee I cast my care, 
With humble confidence look up, 

And know, Thou hear'st my prayer. 

Give me on Thee to wait 

Till I can all things do, 
On Thee, Almighty to create ! 

Almighty to renew ! 

I want a sober mind, 

A self-renouncing will. 
That tramples down and casts behind 

The baits of pleasing ill : 

A soul inured to pain, 

To hardship, grief, and loss ; 
Bold to take up, firm to sustain, 

The consecrated cross. 

I want a godly fear, 

A quick-discerning eye. 
That looks to Thee when sin is near, 

And sees the Tempter fly ; 

A spirit still prepared, 

And arm'd with jealous care, 
For ever standing on its guard, 

And watching unto prayer. 

I want a heart to pray. 

To pray and never cease. 
Never to murmur at Thy stay, 

Or wish my sufferings less ; 

This blessing, above all, 

Always to pray, I want. 
Out of the deep on Thee to call, 

And never, never faint. 

Love. 375 

I want a true regard, 

A single, steady aim, 
Unmov'd by threat'ning or reward, 

To Thee and Thy great Name ; 

A jealous, just concern 

For Thine immortal praise ; 
A pure desire that all may learn 

And glorify Thy grace. 

I rest upon Thy word ; 

Thy promise is for me ; 
My succour and salvation, Lord, 

Shall surely come from Thee. 

But let me still abide, 

Nor from my hope remove. 
Till Thou my patient spirit guide 

Into Thy perfect love ! 

Charles Wesley. 1742. 



If ye love Me, keep My cojmnajidnicnts'' 

(John xiv. 15. 


Jesus, my all, to Heaven is gone ; 
He that I placed my hopes upon ; 
His track I see ; and I'll pursue 
The narrow way, till Him I view. 

The way the holy Prophets went, 
The way that leads from banishment, 
The King's high-way of holiness, 
I'll go ; for all the paths are peace. 

^il^ The Book of Praise. 

No stranger may proceed therein, 
No lover of the world and sin ; 
No lion, no devouring care, 
No ravenous tiger shall be there. 

No : nothing may go up thereon 
But travelling souls ; and I am one : 
Wayfaring men, to Canaan bound, 
Shall only in the way be found. 

Nor fools, by carnal men esteem'd, 
Shall err therein ; but they, redeem'd 
In Jesu's blood, shall show their right 
To travel there, till HeaVn's in sight. 

This is the way I long have sought. 
And mourn'd, because I found it not ; 
My grief, my burden, long have been 
Because I could not cease from sin. 

The more I strove against its power, 
I sinn'd and stumbled but the more ; 
Till late I heard my Saviour say, 
" Come hither, soul ! for I'm the Way ! " 

Lo ! glad I come ; and Thou, dear Lamb, 
Shalt take me to Thee, as I am : 
Nothing but sin I Thee can give ; 
Yet help me, and Thy praise I'll live ! 

I'll tell to all poor sinners round 
What a dear Saviour I have found ; 
I'll point to Thy Redeeming blood. 
And say, " Behold the Way to God !" 

John Cennick. 1743. 

Love. 377 


Go, worship at Immanuers feet ; 
See, in His face what wonders meet ; 
Earth is too narrow to express 
His worth, His glory, or His grace ! 

The whole creation can afford 
But some faint shadows of my Lord ; 
Nature, to make His beauties known, 
Must mingle colours not her own. 

Is He compared to Wine or Bread ? 
Dear Lord, our souls would thus be fed : 
That flesh, that dying Blood of Thine, 
Is Bread of Life, is heavenly Wine. 

Is He a Tree ? The world receives 
Salvation from His heahng leaves : 
That righteous Branch, that fruitful bough, 
Is David's root and offspring too. 

Is he a Rose ? Not Sharon yields 
Such fragrancy in all her fields ; 
Or if the Lily He assume, 
The valleys bless the rich perfume. 

Is He a Vine ? His heavenly root 
Supplies the boughs with life and fruit : 
O let a lasting union join 
My soul the branch to Christ the Vine ! 

Is He the Head ? Each member lives, 
And owns the vital power He gives ; 
The Saints below and Saints above 
Joined by His Spirit and His love. 

378 The Book of Praise. 

Is He a Fountain ? There I bathe, 
And heal the plague of sin and death ; 
These waters all my soul renew, 
And cleanse my spotted garments too. 

Is He a Fire ? He'll purge my dross ; 
But the true gold sustains no loss : 
Like a Refiner shall He sit, 
And tread the refuse with His feet. 

Is He a Rock ? How firm He proves ! 
The Rock of Ages never moves : 
Yet the sweet streams, that from Him flow, 
Attend us all the desert through. 

Is He a Way ? He leads to God ; 
The path is drawn in lines of Blood ; 
There would I Avalk with hope and zeal, 
Till I arrive at Sion's hill. 

Is He a Door ? I'll enter in ; 
Behold the pastures large and green ! 
A paradise divinely fair ; 
None but the sheep have freedom there. 

Is He design'd a Corner-stone, 
For men to build their Heaven upon ? 
I'll make Him my Foundation too ; 
Nor fear the plots of hell below. 

Is He a Temple ? I adore 
The indwelling majesty and power ; 
And still to His Most Holy Place, 
Whene'er I pray, I turn my face. 

Love, 379 

Is He a Star ? He breaks the night, 
Piercing the shades with dawning hght ; 
I know His glories from afar, 
I know the bright, the morning Star ! 

Is He a Sun ? His beams are grace, 
His course is joy and Righteousness : 
Nations rejoice, when He appears 
To chase their clouds and dry their tears. 

Oh ! let me climb those higher skies 
Where storms and darkness never rise ! 
There He displays His powers abroad, 
And shines and reigns, th' incarnate God. 

Nor earth, nor seas, nor sun, nor stars. 
Nor heaven His full resemblance bears : 
His beauties we can never trace. 
Till we behold Him face to face. 

Isaac Watts. 170Q. 


Compared with Christ, in all beside 

No comeliness I see ; 
The one thing needful, dearest Lord 

Is to be one with Thee. 
The sense of Thy expiring Love 

Into my soul convey ; 
Thyself bestow : for Thee alone 

I absolutely pray. 

Whatever else Thy will withholds, 
Here grant me to succeed ! 

O let Thyself my portion be, 
And I am blest indeed ! 

380 The Book of Praise. 

Less than Thyself will not suffice 

My comfort to restore ; 
More than Thyself I cannot have ; 

And Thou canst give no more. 

Loved of my God, for Him again 

With love intense I burn ; 
Chosen of Thee ere time began, 

I choose Thee in return ! 
Whate'er consists not with Thy love, 

O ! teach me to resign ! 
I'm rich to all th' intents of bliss, 

If Thou, O God, art mine ! 

Augustus Montague Toplady. 1772. 


Jesu ! who for my transgression 
Didst the shameful cross endure. 

And didst there the blest possession 
Of Thy joys to me insure ; 

May my praise be ever telling 

Of Thy love, all love excelling ! 

Wondrous woes that brought salvation ! 

Wondrous grace to sinners shown ! 
Heaven is wrapt in contemplation 

Of His love, whom men disown ! 
Oh my soul ! wilt thou disown Him ? 
Wilt not thou, my heart, enthrone Him ? 

Who but He can bless thy weeping ? 

Who but He can soothe thy grief? 
Only safe beneath His keeping, 

Thou in Him hast sure relief : 

Love. 3^51 

To the cross He came to bless thee ; 
Let His love, my soul, possess thee ! 

Lord ! each thought and inclination. 

All my heart and will inspire, 
That my soul, Thy new creation, 

Thee may serve with pure desire ; 
Daily Thy great love reviewing, 
Daily thus my sins subduing ! 

A rthiir Tozer Russell, 1 85 1 . 


Eternal God, of beings First, 
Of all created good the Spring, 

For Thee I long, for Thee I thirst. 
My Love, my Saviour, and my King 

Thine is a never-faihng store ; 

If God be mine, I ask no more. 

The fairest world of light on high 
Reflection makes but faint of Thine ; 

The glorious tenants of the sky 

In God's own beams transported shine : 

But, shouldst Thou wrap Thy face in shade, 

Soon all their life and lustre fade. 

Thy Presence makes celestial day, 

And fills each raptur'd soul with bliss ; 

Night would prevail, were God away, 
And spirits pine in Paradise ! 

In vain would all the angels try 

To fill Thy room, Thy lack supply. 

382 The Book of Praise, 

And, sure, from Heav'n we turn our eyes 
In vain, to seek for bliss below ; 

The tree of Life can't root nor rise. 
Nor in this blasted region grow : 

The wealth of this poor barren clod 

Can ne'er make up the want of God. 

But, Lord ! in Thee the thirsty soul 
Will meet with full, with rich supplies ! 

Thy smiles will all her fears control, 
Thy beauties feast her ravish'd eyes : 

To failing flesh and fainting hearts 

Thy favour life and strength imparts ! 

Simon Browne. 1 720. 


Christ, my hidden Life, appear, 

Soul of my inmost soul ! 
Light of life, the mourner cheer. 

And make the sinner whole ! 
Now in me Thyself display ; 
Surely Thou in all things art ; 
I from all things turn away 

To seek Thee in my heart ! 

Open, Lord, my inward ear. 
And bid my heart rejoice ! 
Bid my quiet spirit hear 

Thy comfortable voice ; 
Never in the whirlwind found, 
Or where earthquakes rock the place 
Still and silent is the sound, 
The whisper of Thy grace ! 

Love. 383 

From the world of sin, and noise, 

And hurry, I withdraw ; 
For the small and inward Voice 

I wait with humble awe : 
Silent am I now and still ; 
Dare not in Thy presence move : 
To my waiting soul reveal 

The secret of Thy love ! 

Thou hast undertook for me ; 

For me to death wast sold ; 
Wisdom in a mystery 

Of bleeding love unfold ! 
Teach the lesson of Thy cross ; 
Let me die, with Thee to reign ! 
All things let me count but loss. 

So I may Thee regain ! 

Show me, as my soul can bear, 

The depth of inbred sin ; 
All the unbelief declare. 

The pride that lurks within : 
Take me, whom Thyself hast bought ! 
Bring into captivity 
Every high aspiring thought, 

That would not stoop to Thee ! 

Lord, my time is in Thy hand ; 

My soul to Thee convert ! 
Thou canst make me understand, 

Though I am slow of heart. 
Thine, in whom I live and move, 
Thine the work, the power is Thine ! 
Thou art Wisdom, Power, and Love ; 

And all thou art is mine ! 

Charles Wesley. 1742, 

384 The Book of Praise. 


Source of good, whose power controls 
Every movement of our souls ; 
Wind that quickens where it blows ; 
Comforter of human woes ; 
Lamp of God, whose ray serene 
In the darkest night is seen ; 
Come, inspire my feeble strain. 
That I may not sing in vain ! 

God's own Finger, skill'd to teach 
Tongues of every land and speech ; 
Balsam of the wounded soul, 
Binding up, and making whole ; 
Flame of pure and holy love ; 
Strength of all that live and move ■, 
Come ! Thy gifts and fire impart ; 
Make me love Thee from the heart ! 

As the hart, with longing, looks 
For refreshing water-brooks. 
Heated in the burning chace ; 
So my soul desires Thy grace : 
So my heavy-laden breast. 
By the cares of life opprest, 
Longs Thy cooling streams to taste 
In this dry and barren waste. 

Mighty Spirit ! by whose aid 
Man a living soul was made ; 
Everlasting God ! whose fire 
Kindles chaste and pure desire ; 
Grant, in every grief and loss, 
I may calmly bear the cross, 
And surrender all to Thee, 
Comforting and strengthening me ! 

Love. 385 

Open force or cunning wiles, 
Snap the thread of my brief days ; 
But, when gently life decays, 
Take to Heaven Thy servant dear, 
Who hath loved and served Thee here ; 
There eternal hymns to raise. 
Mighty Spirit ! to Thy praise ! 

Richard Massie. 1 854. 

{Fi'oin Jolm Frank}) 


O Lamp of Life ! that on the bloody Cross 
Dost hang, the Beacon of our wandering race, 
To guide us homeward to our resting-place. 

And save our best wealth from eternal loss ! 

So purge my inward sight from earthly dross, 
That, fix'd upon Thy Cross, or near or far. 

In all the storms this weary bark that toss, 
(Whate'er be lost in that tempestuous war,) 
Thee I retain, my Compass and my Star ! 

That, when arrived upon the wish'd-for strand, 
I pass of death th' irrevocable bar, 

And at the gate of Heaven trembling stand, 

The everlasting doors may open wide, 

And give Thee to my sight, God glorified ! 

Charles Dyson . 1 8 1 6. 


A poor wayfaring man of grief 
Hath often cross'd me on my way, 

Who sued so humbly for relief, 
That I could never answer, Nay : 
c c 

386 The Book of P?^aise. 

I had not power to ask his name, 
Whither he went, or whence he came, 
Yet there was something in his eye 
That won my love, I knew not why. 

Once, when my scanty meal was spread, 

He entered ; not a word he spake ; 
Just perishing for want of bread ; 

I gave him all ; he bless'd it, brake, 
And ate ; but gave me part again : 
Mine was an angel's portion then ; 
For, while I fed with eager haste, 
That crust was manna to my taste. 

I spied him, where a fountain burst 

Clear from the rock ; his strength was gone 

The heedless water mock'd his thirst. 
He heard it, saw it hurrying on : 

I ran to raise the sufferer up \ 

Thrice from the stream he drain'd my cup, 

Dipt, and return'd it running o'er ; 

I drank, and never thirsted more. 

'Twas night ; the floods were out ; it blew 

A winter hurricane aloof ; 
I heard his voice abroad, and flew 

To bid him welcome to my roof ; 
I warmed, I clothed, I cheered my guest, 
Laid him on my own couch to rest ; 
Then made the hearth my bed, and seem'd 
In Eden's garden while I dream'd. 

Stript, v/ounded, beaten, nigh to death, 
I found him by the highway-side : 

I roused his pulse, brought back his breath 
Revived his spirit, and supplied 

Hope. 387 

Wine, oil, refreshment ; he was healed : 
1 had myself a wound concealed ; 
But from that hour forgot the smart, 
And peace bound up my broken heart. 

In prison I saw him next, condemned 
To meet a traitor's death at morn : 

The tide of lying tongues I stemmed, 
And honoured him midst shame and scorn ; 

My friendship's utmost zeal to try, 

He ask'd, if I for him would die ? 

The flesh was weak, my blood ran chill ; 

But the free spirit cried, " I will." 

Then in a moment to my view 

The Stranger darted from disguise ; 

The tokens in His hands I knew. 
My Saviour stood before mine eyes ! 

He spake ; and my poor name He named ; 

" Of me thou hast not been ashamed ; 

These deeds shall thy memorial be ; 

P>ar not ; thou didst them unto Me." 

James Montgomery. 1826. 



'' Set yo?er affections on things above; not on things 
on the ea?'th'' — (COL. iii. 2.) 


I praised the earth, in beauty seen 
With garlands gay of various green ; 
I praised the sea, whose ample field 
Shone glorious as a silver shield ; 
And earth and ocean seem'd to say, 
" Our beauties are but for a day." 
C C 2 

388 The Book of Praise. 

I praised the sun, whose chariot roll'd 
On wheels of amber and of gold ; 
I praised the moon, whose softer eye 
Gleam'd sweetly through the summer sky/ 
And moon and sun in answer said, 
" Our days of light are numbered." 

O God ! O Good beyond compare ! 

If thus Thy meaner works are fair, 

If thus Thy bounties gild the span 

Of ruin'd earth and sinful man, 

How glorious must the mansion be. 

Where Thy redeem'd shall dwell with Thee ! 

Bishop Reginald Heber. 1827. 


Our life is but an idle play, 

And various as the wind ; 
We laugh and sport our hours away, 

Nor think of woes behind. 

See the fair cheek of beauty fade. 

Frail glory of an hour ; 
And blooming youth, with sickening head, 

Droops like the dying flower. 

Our pleasures, like the morning sun, 

Diffuse a flattering light ; 
But gloomy clouds obscure their noon, 

And soon they sink in night. 

Wealth, pomp, and honour, we behold 

With an admiring eye ; 
Like summer insects, drest in gold. 

That flutter.^ shine, and die. 

Hope. 389 

One little moment can destroy 
Our vast laborious schemes ; 

And all our heaps of solid joy- 
Are sweet deceitful dreams. 

Then rise, my soul ! and soar away 
Above the thoughtless crowd ; 

Above the pleasures of the gay, 
And splendours of the proud ; 

Up where eternal beauties bloom, 

And pleasures all divine ; 
Where wealth, that never can consume. 

And endless glories shine ! 

Henry Moore. [1806.] 


Though, by sorrows overtaken, 
Lord, thy servants seem forsaken, 
Thy Almighty hand, we know, 
Blendeth love with human woe. 

Over earth, and over ocean, 
Claiming sinful man's devotion, 
Round the living and the dead, 
Lord, Thy boundless love is shed. 

All to death in this world hasteth ; 
Riches vanish, beauty wasteth ; 
Yet within the mourner's breast 
Love is an undying guest. 

Love, unlike all worldly pleasures, 
Wraps in grief its golden treasures, 
And to meek and wounded hearts 
Deep and holy joy imparts. 

390 The Book of Praise. 

Love, that strength and pardon bringest 
Through His cross, from Whom thou springest! 
May in us Thy gracious force 
Heavenward turn our spirits' course ! 

Come, and while Salvation's morning 
On our darken'd soul is dawning. 
Sin's deep midnight roll away ! 
Pour on us the light of day ! 

Algernon Herbert. [1839.] 


We've no abiding city here : 

This may distress the worldling's mind ; 
But should not cost the saint a tear 

Who hopes a better rest to find. 

We've no abiding city here : 

Sad truth ! were this to be our home ! 
But let this thought our spirits cheer ; 

We seek a city yet to come. 

We've no abiding city here : 
Then let us live as pilgrims do ! 

Let not the world our rest appear, 
But let us haste from all below. 

We've no abiding city here : 

We seek a city out of sight ; 
Zion its name, the Lord is there, 

It shines with everlasting light ! 

Zion ! Jehovah is her strength ; 

Secure she smiles at all her foes •, 
And weary travellers at length 

Within her sacred walls repose. 

Hope. 391 

O ' sweet abode of peace and love, 

Where pilgrims freed from toil are blest ! 

Had I the pinions of the dove, 
I'd fly to thee, and be at rest ! 

Thojnas Kelly. 1812— 1836. 



Far from my heavenly home, 
Far from my Father's breast. 
Fainting I cry, "Blest Spirit! come 
And speed me to my rest !" 

Upon the willows long 
My harp has silent hung : 
How should I sing a cheerful song 
Till Thou inspire my tongue ? 

My spirit homeward turns. 
And fain would thither flee ; 
My heart, O Zion, droops and yearns, 
When I remember thee. 

To thee, to thee I press, 
A dark and toilsome road : 
When shall I pass the wilderness 
And reach the saints' abode ? 

God of my life, be near 1 
On Thee my hopes I cast : 
O guide me through the desert here. 
And bring me home at last ! 

Henry Francis Lytc. 1 834. 

392 The Book of Praise. 


O happy soul, that Hves on high, 

While men lie grovelling here ! 
His hopes are fix'd above the sky, 

And faith forbids his fear. 

His conscience knows no secret stings ; 

While peace and joy combine 
To form a life, whose holy springs 

Are hidden and divine. 

He waits in secret on his God, 

His God in secret sees ; 
Let earth be all in arms abroad, 

He dwells in heavenly peace. 

His pleasures rise from things unseen, 

Beyond this world and time, 
Where neither eyes nor ears have been. 

Nor thoughts of sinners climb. 

He wants no pomp, nor royal throne, 

To raise his figure here ; 
Content and pleased to live unknown. 

Till Christ, his Life, appear. 

He looks to Heaven's eternal hill. 

To meet that glorious day ; 
A.nd patient waits his Saviour's will. 

To fetch his soul away. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 

'Hope. 393 


Fain would my thoughts fly up to Thee, 
Thy peace, sweet Lord, to find ; 

But when I offer, still the world 
Lays clogs upon my mind. 

Sometimes I climb a little way 
And thence look down below ; 

How nothing, there, do all things seem, 
That here make such a show ! 

Then round about I turn my eyes 

To feast my hungry sight ; 
I meet with Heaven in every thing, 

In every thing delight. 

I see Thy wisdom ruling all. 

And it with joy admire ; 
I see myself among such hopes 

As set my heart on fire. 

When I have thus triumph'd awhile. 
And think to build my nest. 

Some cross conceits come fluttering by. 
And interrupt my rest. 

Then to the earth again I fall, 

And from my low dust cry, 
'Twas not in my wing. Lord, but Thine, 

That I got up so high. 

And now, my God, whether I rise, 

Or still lie down in dust, 
Both I submit to Thy blest will ; 

In both, on Thee I trust. 

394 T^^^^ Book of Praise. 

Guide Thou my way, who art Thyself 

My everlasting End, 
That every step, or swift, or slow, 

Still to Thyself may tend ! 

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, 

One consubstantial Three, 
All highest praise, all humblest thanks. 

Now and for ever be ! Amen. 

John Austin. 1668. 


There is a pure and tranquil wave. 
That rolls around the throne of love. 
Whose waters gladden as they lave 
The peaceful shores above. 

While streams, which on that tide depend, 
Steal from those heavenly shores away, 
And on this desert world descend 
O'er weaiy lands to stray ; 

The pilgrim faint, and nigh to sink 
Beneath his load of earthly woe, 
Refresh'd beside their verdant brink, 
Rejoices in their flow. 

There, O my soul, do thou repair. 
And hover o'er the hallowed spring. 
To drink the crystal wave, and there 
To lave thy wearied wing ! 

There droop that wing, when far it flies 
From human care, and toil, and strife, 
And feed by those still streams, that rise 
Beneath the Tree of Life ! 

Hope. 395 

It may be that the breath of love 
Some leaves on their pure tide have driven, 
Which, passing from the shores above, 
Have floated down from Heaven. 

So shall thy wounds and woes be healed, 
By the blest virtue that they bring ; 
So thy parch'd lips shall be unsealed 
Thy Saviour's praise to sing ! 

William Ball. 1825. 


Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, 
While these hot breezes blow ; 

Be like the night-dew's cooling balm 
Upon earth's fevered brow ! 

Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, 

Soft resting on Thy breast ; 
Soothe me with holy hymn and psalm, 

And bid my spirit rest. 

Calm me, my God, and keep me calm, 

Let thine outstretched wing. 
Be like the shade of Elim's palm 

Beside her desert-spring. 

Yes ; keep me calm, though loud and rude 
The sounds my ear that greet ; 

Calm in the closet's solitude, 
Calm in the bustling street ; 

Calm in the hour of buoyant health. 

Calm in my hour of pain ; 
Calm in my poverty or wealth, 

Calm in my loss or gain ; 

396 The Book of Praise. 

Calm in the sufferance of wrong, 
Like Him who bore my shame ; 

Calm 'mid the threatening, taunting throng, 
Who hate Thy holy Name ; 

Calm when the great world's news with power 

My listening spirit stir : 
Let not the tidings of the hour 

E'er find too fond an ear : 

Calm as the ray of sun or star 

Which storms assail in vain, 
Moving unruffled through earth's war 

Th' eternal calm, to gain ! 

Horatms Bonar. 1856. 


O send me down a draught of love, 
Or take me hence to drink above ! 
Here, Marah's water fills my cup ; 
But there, all griefs are swallow'd up. 

Love here is scarce a faint desire ; 
But there, the spark's a flaming fire ,\ 
Joys here are drops, that passing flee ; 
But there, an overflowing sea. 

My faith, that sees so darkly here, 
Will there resign to vision clear ; 
My hope, that's here a weary groan, 
Will to fruition yield the throne. 

Here fetters hamper freedom's wing ; 
But there, the captive is a king ; 
And grace is like a buried seed 
But sinners there are saints indeed. 

Hope. 397 

My portion here's a crumb at best ; 
But there, the Lamb's eternal feast ; 
My praise is now a smother'd fire ; 
But then, I'll sing and never tire. 

Now dusky shadows cloud my day ; 
But then, the shades will flee away ; 
My Lord will break the dimming glass, 
And show His glory face to face. 

My numerous foes now beat me down ; 
But then, I'll wear the victor's crown ; 
Yet all the revenues I'll bring 
To Zion's everlasting King ! 

Ralph Erskine. 1734, 


Fierce passions discompose the mind, 

As tempests vex the sea ; 
But calm content and peace we find. 

When, Lord, we turn to Thee. 

In vain by reason and by rule 

We try to bend the will ; 
For none but in the Saviour's school 

Can learn the heavenly skill. 

Since at His feet my soul has sat 

His gracious words to hear, 
Contented with my present state, 

I cast on Him my care. 

"Art thou a sinner. Soul ?" He said ; 

" Then how canst thou complain ? 
" How light thy troubles here, if weigh'd 

" With everlasting pain ! 

393 The Book of Praise. 

" If thou of murmuring wouldst be cured, 
" Compare thy griefs with Mine ; 

" Think what My love for thee endured, 
" And thou wilt not repine. 

" 'Tis I appoint thy daily lot, 

" And I do all things well : 
" Thou soon shalt leave this wretched spot, 

" And rise with Me to dwell. 

" In life My grace shall strength supply, 

" Proportion'd to thy day ; 
"At death thou still shalt find Me nigh, 

'' To wipe thy tears away." 

Thus I, w^ho once my wretched days 

In vain repinings spent, 
Taught in my Saviour's school of grace, 

Have learnt to be content. 

William Cowper. 1779. 


Let me be with Thee where Thou art. 
My Saviour, my eternal Rest ! 

Then only will this longing heart 
Be fully and for ever blest ! 

Let me be with Thee where Thou art. 

Thy unveil'd glory to behold ; 
Then only will this wandering heart 

Cease to be treacherous, faithless, cold ! 

Let me be with Thee w'here Thou art, 
Where spotless saints Thy Name adore : 

Then only will this sinful heart 
Be evil and defiled no more ! 

Hope. 399 

Let me be with Thee where Thou art, 
Where none can die, where none remove ; 

There neither death nor hfe will part 
Me from Thy Presence and Thy love ! 

Charlotte Elliott. 1836. 


O Lord, how little do we know, 
How little of Thy Presence feel, 

While we continue here below, 

And in these earthly houses dwell ! 

When will these veils of flesh remove, 
And not eclipse our sight of God ? 

When wilt Thou take us up above. 
To see Thy face without a cloud ? 

Show Thy omnipotence to save ! 

The characters of sin efface ! 
Thine image on our hearts engrave, 

And let us feel Thy sweet embrace ! 

Dart in our hearts a heavenly ray, 
A ray which still may shine more bright, 

Increasing to the perfect day, 
Till we awake in endless light ! 

Then shall each Star become a Sun, 

Fill'd with a lustre all Divine ; 
Each shall possess a radiant crown, 

And to eternal ages shine. 

William Hammond. 1 745. 

400 The Book of Praise. 


Go up, go up, my heart, 

Dwell with thy God above ; 
For here thou canst not rest. 

Nor here give out thy love. 

Go up, go up, my heart, 

Be not a trifler here ; 
Ascend above these clouds, 

Dwell in a higher sphere. 

Let not thy love flow out 

To things so soiled and dim ; 

Go up to Heaven and God, 
Take up thy love to Him. 

Waste not thy precious stores 

On creature-love below ; 
To God that wealth belongs, 

On Him that wealth bestow. 

Go up, reluctant heart. 

Take up thy rest above ; 
Arise, earth-clinging thoughts ; 

Ascend, my lingering love ! 

Horatius Bonar. 1856. 


My soul, amid this stormy world. 
Is like some fluttered dove, 

And fain would be as swift of wing 
To flee to Him I love. 

Hope. 401 

The cords that bound my heart to earth 

Are broken by His hand ; 
Before His cross I found myself 

A stranger in the land. 

That visage marr'd, those sorrows deep, 

The vinegar and gall, 
These were His golden chains of love 

His captive to enthral. 

My heart is with Him on His throne, 

And ill can brook delay, 
Each moment listening for the voice, 

" Rise up, and come away !" 

With hope deferr'd oft sick and faint, 

" Why tarries He ? " I cry ; 
Let not the Saviour chide my haste, 

For then would I reply : 

" May not an exile. Lord, desire 

" His own sweet land to see ? 
" May not a captive seek release, 

" A prisoner, to be free ? 

" A child, when far away, may long 
" For home and kindred dear ; 
And she, that waits her absent lord, 
" May sigh till he appear. 

' I would, my Lord and Saviour, know 
" That which no measure knows ! 

" Would search the mysteiy of Thy lo\e, 
" The depths of all Thy woes ! 

D D 

402 The Book of Praise. 

'' I fain would strike my harp divine, 

" Before the Father's throne, 
" There cast my crown of Righteousness, 

" And sing what grace has done ! 

" Ah ! leave me not in this base world, 

" A stranger still to roam ; 
" Come, Lord, and take me to Thyself ; 

" Come, Jesus, quickly come ! " 

Robert C. Chapman. 1837 — 185? 


Jesus, I my cross have taken. 

All to leave, and follow Thee ; 
Destitute, despised, forsaken, 

Thou, from hence, my all shalt be : 
Perish every fond ambition. 

All I've sought, or hoped, or known ; 
Yet how rich is my condition ! 

God and Heaven are still my own ! 

Let the world despise and leave me, 

They have left my Saviour too ; 
Human hearts and looks deceive me ; 

Thou art not, like them, untrue : 
And, while Thou shalt smile upon me, 

God of wisdom, love, and might, 
Foes may hate, and friends may shun me ; 

Show Thy face, and all is bright ! 

Go, then, earthly fame and treasure ! 

Come, disaster, scorn, and pain ! 
In Thy service, pain is pleasure. 

With Thy favour, loss is gain ! 

Hope. 403 

I have call'd Thee, Abba, Father ! 

I have stay'd my heart on Thee ! 
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, 

All must work for good to me. 

Man may trouble and distress me, 

'Twill but drive me to Thy breast ; 
Life with trials hard may press me. 

Heaven will bring me sweeter rest ! 
O ! 'tis not in grief to harm me, 

While Thy love is left to me ! 
O ! 'twere not in joy to charm me. 

Were that joy unmix'd with Thee ! 

Take, my soul, thy full salvation ; 

Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care ; 
Joy to find, in every station, 

Something still to do or bear : 
Think what Spirit dwells within thee ! 

W^hat a Father s smile is thine ! 
What a Saviour died to win thee ! 

Child of Heaven, shouldst thou repine ? 

Haste then on from grace to glory, 

Arm'd by faith, and wing'd by prayer ; 
Heaven s eternal days before thee, 

God's own hand shall guide thee there ! 
Soon shall close thy earthly mission, 

Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days ; 
Hope soon change to glad fruition, 

F'aith to sight, and prayer to praise ! 

Hjiny Frincis Lytc. [1833.] 

D D 2 

404 The Book of Praise. 



"7;^ whom^ though now ye see Hint not, yet believing^ 
ye rejoice with joy unspeakable, and full of glory r 
— (i Pet. i. 8.) 


My God, the Spring of all my joys^ 

The Life of my delights, 
The Glory of my brig'htest days, 

And Comfort of my nights : 

In darkest shades if He appear, 

My dawning is begun ; 
He is my soul's sweet Morning-star, 

And He my rising Sun. 

The opening heavens around me shine 

With beams of sacred bliss. 
While Jesus shows, His heart is mine. 

And whispers, I am His. 

My soul would leave this heavy clay 

At that transporting word, 
Run up with joy the shining wary 

T embrace my dearest Lord. 

Fearless of hell and ghastly death, 

I'd break through every foe : 
The wings of love and arms of faith 

Should bear me conqueror through. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 

Joy. 405 


Far from the world, O Lord, I flee. 

From strife and tumult far ; 
From scenes where Satan wages still 

His most successful war. 

The calm retreat, the silent shade, 

With prayer and praise agree. 
And seem by Thy sweet bounty made 

For those who follow Thee. 

There, if Thy Spirit touch the soul, 

And grace her mean abode, 
Oh with what peace, and joy, and love, 

She communes with her God ! 

There, like the nightingale, she pours 

Her solitary lays. 
Nor asks a witness of her song, 

Nor thirsts for human praise. 

Author and Guardian of my life ; 

Sweet Source of light Divine ; 
And, all harmonious names in one. 

My Saviour ! Thou art mine ! 

What thanks I owe Thee, and what love, 

A boundless, endless store. 
Shall echo through the realms above 

When time shall be no more ! 

William Cowper. ijjf). 

There's not a bird, with lonely nest 
In pathless wood or mountain crest. 
Nor meaner thing, which does not share. 
O God ! in Thy paternal care ! 

4o6 The Book of Praise. 

There's not a being now accurst, 
Who did not taste Thy goodness first ; 
And every joy the wicked see 
Received its origin from Thee. 

Each barren crag, each desert rude, 
Holds Thee within its sohtude ; 
And Thou dost bless the wanderer there, 
Who makes his solitary prayer. 

In busy mart and crowded street, 
No less than in the still retreat, 
Thou, Lord, art near, our souls to bless 
With all a parent's tenderness ! 

And every moment still doth bring 
Thy blessings on its loaded wing ; 
Widely they spread through earth and sky, 
And last to all eternity ! 

Through all creation let Thy Name 
Be echoed with a glad acclaim ! 
That let the grateful Churches sing ; 
With that let heaven for ever ring ! 

And we, where'er our lot is cast, 
W^hile life and thought and feeling last, 
Through all our years, in every place, 
Will bless Thee for Thy boundless grace ! 

Baptist Wriothesley Noel. [1841.I 


The child leans on its parent's breast. 
Leaves there its cares, and is at rest ; 
The bird sits singing by his nest,. 

Joy. 407 

And tells aloud 
His trust in God, and so is blest 

'Neath every cloud. 

He has no store, he sows no seed ; 
Yet sings aloud, and doth not heed ; 
By flowing stream or grassy mead 

He sings to shame 
Men, who forget, in fear of need, 

A Father's Name. 

The heart that trusts for ever sings, 
And feels as light as it had wings ; 
A well of peace within it springs : 

Come good or ill, 
Whate'er to-day, to-morrow brings. 

It is His will ! 
Isaac Williams. [1842.] 


Why comes this fragrance on the summer breeze, 
The blended tribute of ten thousand flowers. 

To me, a frequent wanderer 'mid the trees 
That form« these gay, \though solitary bowers ? 

One answer is around, beneath, above ; 

The echo of the voice, that God is Love ! 

Why bursts such melody from tree and bush, 
The overflowing of each songster's heart, 

So filling mine, that it can scarcely hush 
Awhile to listen, but would take its part ? 

'Tis but one song I hear where'er I rove. 

Though countless be the notes, that God is Love ! 

4o8 The Book of Praise. 

Why leaps the streamlet down the mountain's side. 
Hastening so swiftly to the vale beneath, 

To cheer the shepherd' s thirsty flock, or glide 
Where the hot sun has left a faded wreath, 

Or, rippling, aid the music of the grove ? 

Its own glad voice replies, that God is Love ! 

In starry heavens, at the midnight hour, 
In ever-varying hues at morning's dawn, 

In the fair bow athwart the falling shower. 
In forest, river, lake, rock, hill, and lawn, 

One truth is written : all conspire to prove, 

What gi-ace of old reveal'd, that God is Love ! 

Nor less this pulse of health, far glancing eye, 
And heart so moved with beauty, perfume, song. 

This spirit, soaring through a gorgeous sky, 
Or diving ocean's coral caves among. 

Fleeter than darting fish or startled dove ; 

All, all declare the same, that God is Love ! 

Is it a fallen world on which I gaze ? 

Am I as deeply fallen as the rest, 
Yet joys partaking, past my utmost praise. 

Instead of wandering forlorn, unblest ? 
It is as if an unseen spirit strove 
To grave upon my heart, that God is Love ! 

Yet wouldst thou see, my soul, this truth display'd 
In characters which wondering angels read. 

And read, adoring ; go, imploring aid 

To gaze with faith, behold the Saviour bleed I 

Thy God, in human form ! O, what can prove. 

If this suffice thee not, that God is Love ? 

Joy. 409 

Cling to His cross ; and let thy ceaseless prayer 
Be, that thy grasp may fail not ! and, ere long, 

Thou shalt ascend to that fair Temple, where 
In strains ecstatic an innumerous throng 

Of saints and seraphs, round the Throne above, 

Proclaim for evermore, that God is Love ! 

Thomas Davis. 1859. 

Shall I fear, O Earth, thy bosom ? 

Shrink and faint to lay me there. 
Whence the fragrant lovely blossom 

Springs to gladden earth and air ? 

Whence the tree, the brook, the river. 
Soft clouds floating in the sky, 

All fair things come, whispering ever 
Of the love Divine on high ? 

Yea, whence One arose Victorious 
O'er the darkness of the grave. 

His strong arm revealing, glorious 
In its might Divine to save ? 

No, fair Earth ! a tender mother 

Thou hast been, and yet canst be : 
And through Him, my Lord and Brother, 
' Sweet shall be my rest in thee ! 

Thomas Davis. 1 86a 


How vast the treasure we possess. 
How rich Thy bounty. King of grace ! 
This world is ours, and worlds to come ; 
Earth is our lodge, and Heaven our home, 

4IO The Book of Praise. 

All things are ours, the gifts of God, 
The purchase of a Saviour's Blood ; 
While the good Spirit shews us hov/ 
To use and to improve them too. 

If peace and plenty crown my days. 
They help me, Lord, to speak Thy praise ; 
If bread of sorrows be my food, 
Those sorrows work my lasting good. 

I would not change my blest estate 
For all the world calls good or great ; 
And, while my faith can keep her hold, 
I envy not the sinner's gold. 

Father ; I wait Thy daily will ; 
Thou shalt divide my portion still ; 
Grant me on earth what seems Thee best. 
Till death and Heaven reveal the rest. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 


By faith in Christ I w^alk with God, 
With Heaven, my journey's end, in view; 

Supported by His staff and rod, 
My road is safe, and pleasant too. 

I travel through a desert wide 
Where many round me blindly stray ; 

But He vouchsafes to be my Guide, 
And will not let me miss my way. 

Though snares and dangers throng my path, 
And earth and hell my course withstand, 

I triumph over all by faith. 

Guarded by His Almighty hand. 

Joy. 411 

The wilderness affords no food ; 

But God for my support prepares, 
Provides me every needful good, 

And frees my soul from wants and cares. 

With him sweet converse I maintain ; 

Great as He is, I dare be free ; 
I tell Him all my grief and pain ; 

And He reveals His love to me. 

Some cordial from His Word He brings. 

Whene'er my feeble spirit faints ; 
At once my soul revives and sings. 

And yields no more to sad complaints. 

I pity all that worldlings talk 

Of pleasures, that will quickly end ; 

Be this my choice, O Lord, to walk 
With Thee, my Guide, my Guard, my Friend ! 
Johfi Newton. 1779. 


Sometimes a light surprises 

The Christian while he sings 
It is the Lord, who rises 

With healing in His wings : 
When comforts are declining, 

He grants the soul again 
A season of clear shining 

To cheer it after rain. 

In holy contemplation 
We sweetly then pursue 

The theme of God's salvation, 
And find it ever new : 

412 The Book of Praise. 

Set free from present sorrow, 

We cheerfully can say, 
E'en let the unknown to-morrow 

Bring with it what it may. 

It can bring with it nothing, 

But He will bear us through ; 
Who gives the lilies clothing 

Will clothe His people too ; 
Beneath the spreading heavens 

No creature but is fed ; 
And He, who feeds the ravens, 

Will give His children bread. 

Though vine nor fig-tree neither 

Their wonted fruit shall bear ; 
Though all the field should wither, 

Nor flocks nor herds be there ; 
Yet, God the same abiding. 

His praise shall tune my voice ; 
For, while \vi Him confiding, 

I cannot but rejoice. 

William Cowper, 1779. 


Long did I toil, and knew no earthly rest ; 

Far did I rove, and found no certain home ; 
At last I sought them in His sheltering breast. 

Who opes His arms, and bids the weary come : 
With Him I found a home, a rest Divine ; 
And I since then am His, and He is mine. 

Yes ! He is mine ! and nought of earthly things, 
Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or power. 

The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings. 
Could tempt m.e to forego His love an hour. 

Joy- 413 

Go, worthless world, I cry, with all that's thine ! 
Go ! I my Saviour's am, and He is mine. 

The good I have is from His stores supplied ; 

The ill is only what He deems the best ; 
He for my Friend, I'm rich with nought beside ; 

And poor without Him, though of all possest : 
Changes may come ; I take, or I resign ; 
Content, while I am His, while He is mine. 

Whate'cr may change, in Him no change is seen ; 

A glorious Sun, that wanes not nor declines ; 
Above the clouds and storms He walks serene, 

And sweetly on his people's darkness shines : 
All may depart ; I fret not, nor repine. 
While I my Saviour's am, while He is mine. 

He stays me falling, lifts me up when down. 
Reclaims me wandering, guards from every foe ; 

Plants on my worthless brow the victor's crown ; 
Which, in return, before His feet I throw. 

Grieved that I cannot better grace His shrine, 

Who deigns to own me His, as He is mine. 

While here, alas ! I know but half His love. 
But half discern Him, and but half adore ; 

But when I meet Him in the realms above, 
I hope to love Him better, praise Him more, 

And feel, and tell, amid the choir Divine, 

How fully I am His, and He is mine. 

414 The Book of Praise. 



' Whom the Lord loueth, He chaste7ieth'—(^^'Q.x\\.6^ 


When Christ, with all His graces crown'd, 
Sheds His kind beams abroad, 

'Tis a young Heaven on earthly ground, 
And glory in the bud. 

A blooming paradise of joy 

In this wild desert springs, 
And every sense I straight employ 

On sweet celestial things. 

But ah ! how soon my joys decay ! 

How soon my sins arise 
And snatch the heavenly scene away 

From these lamenting eyes ! 

When shall the time, dear Jesus, when 

The shining day appear, 
That I shall leave those clouds of sin 

And guilt and darkness here ? 

Up to the fields above the skies 

My hasty feet would go ; 
There everlasting flowers arise. 

And joys un withering grow ! 

Isaac IVails. 1709. 

Discipline. 415 


for a closer walk with God, 
A calm and heavenly frame ! 

A light to shine upon the road 
That leads me to the Lamb ! 

Where is the blessedness I knew 

When first I saw the Lord ? 
Where is the soul-refreshing view 

Of Jesus and His word ? 

What peaceful hours I once enjoyed ! 

How sweet their memory still ! 
But they have left an aching void 

The world can never fill. 

Return, O holy Dove ! return, 
Sweet messenger of rest ! 

1 hate the sins that made Thee mourn, 
And drove Thee from my breast. 

The dearest idol I have known, 

Whate'er that idol be. 
Help me to tear it from Thy throne, 

And worship only Thee ! 

So shall my walk be close with God, 

Calm and serene my frame ; 
So purer light shall mark the road 

That leads me to the Lamb ! 

William Cowper. 1779. 


The spring-tide hour 
Brings leaf and flower 
With songs of life and love ; 

4i6 The Book of Praise. 

And many a lay 

Wears out the day 
In many a leafy grove. 

Bird, flower, and tree 

Seem to agree 
Their choicest gifts to bring; 

But this poor heart 

Bears not its part, 
In it there is no spring. 

Dews fall apace, 

The dews of grace, 
Upon this soul of sin 

And love Divine 

Delights to shine 
Upon the waste within : 

Yet, year by year, 

Fruits, flowers, appear, 
And birds their praises sing ; 

But this poor heart 

Bears not its part. 
Its winter has no spring. 

Lord, let Thy love, 

Fresh from above. 
Soft as the south wind blow ; 

Call forth its bloom, 

Wake its perfume. 
And bid its spices flow ! 

And when Thy voice 

Makes earth rejoice. 
And the hills laugh and sing, 

Lord ! make this heart 

To bear its part. 
And join the praise of spring ! 

John S. B, Mo7iseU. 1850. 

Discipline, 417 

Psalm LXIII. 

Early, my God, without delay, 

I haste to seek Thy face ; 
My thirsty spirit faints away 

Without Thy cheering grace. 

So pilgrims on the scorching sand 

Beneath a burning sky 
Long for a cooling stream at hand, 

And they must drink, or die. 

I've seen Thy glory and Thy power 
Through all Thy temple shine ; 

My God ! repeat that heavenly hour, 
That vision so divine ! 

Not life itself, with all her joys, 

Can my best passions move, 
Or raise so high my cheerful voice, 

As Thy forgiving love. 

Thus till my last expiring day 

I'll bless my God and King ; 
Thus will I lift my hands to pray, 

And tune my lips to sing. 

Isaac Watts. 1719. 


God moves in a mysterious way 
His wonders to perform ; 

He plants his footsteps in the sea, 
And rides upon the storm. 

E E 

41 8 The Book oj Praise. 

Deep in unfathomable mines 

Of never-failing skill, 
He treasures up His bright designs, 

And works His sovereign will. 

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take ; 

The clouds ye so much dread 
Are big with mercy, and shall break 

In blessings on your head. 

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, 
But trust Him for His grace ; 

Behind a frowning Providence 
He hides a smiling face. 

His purposes will ripen fast, 

Unfolding every hour ; 
The bud may have a bitter taste^ 

But sweet will be the flower. 

Blind unbelief is sure to err, 
And scan His work in vain ; 

God is His own interpreter, 
And He will make it plain. 

William Cowper. 1779. 


The world can neither give nor take. 

Nor can they comprehend 
The peace of God, which Christ has bought, 

The peace which knows no end. 

The burning bush was not consumed 

Whilst God remained there ; 
The Three, when Jesus made the Fourth, 

Found fire as soft as air. 

Discipline. 419 

God's furnace doth in Zion stand ; 

But Zion's God sits by, 
As the refiner views his gold 

With an observant eye. 

His thoughts are high, His love is wise, 

His wounds a cure intend ; 
And, though He does not always smile, 
He loves unto the end. 
Cento by Selina, Countess of Hnntingdon. 1780. 
From John Mason. 1683. 

Let Jacob to his Maker sing, 
And praise his great Redeeming King : 
Call'd by a new, a gracious Name, 
Let Israel loud his God proclaim. 

He knows our souls in all their fears. 
And gently wipes our falling tears ; 
Forms trembling voices to a song, 
And bids the feeble heart be strong. 

Then let the rivers swell around. 
And rising floods o'erflow the ground ; 
Rivers and floods and seas divide. 
And homage pay to Israel's Guide. 

Then let the fires their rage display, 
And flaming terrors bar the way ; 
Unburnt, unsinged. He leads them through, 
And makes the flames refreshing too. 

The fires but on their bonds shall prey ; 
The floods but wash their stains away ; 
And Grace Divine new trophies raise 
Amidst the deluge and the blaze. 

Philip Doddridf^c. 1755. 
E E 2 

420 The Book of Praise, 


To Thee, my God, whose Presence tills 

The earth, and seas, and skies. 
To Thee, whose Name, whose heart is Love, 

With all my powers I rise. 

Troubles in long succession roll ; 

Wave rushes upon wave ; 
Pity, O pity my distress ! 

Thy child^ Thy suppliant, save ! 

O bid the roaring tempest cease ; 

Or give me strength to bear 
Whate'er Thy holy will appoints, 

And save me from despair ! 

To Thee, my God, alone I look. 

On Thee alone confide ; 
Thou never hast deceived the soul 

That on Thy grace rehed. 

Though oft Thy ways are wrapt in clouds 

Mysterious and unknown. 
Truth, Righteousness, and Mercy stand 

The pillars of Thy throne. 

Thomas Gibbons. \ 784. 


The billows swell, the winds are high, 

Clouds overcast my wintry sky ; 

Out of the depths to Thee I call, 

My fears are great, my strength is small. 

Discipli?ie. 421 

O Lord, the pilot's part perform, 
And guide and guard me through the storm ; 
Defend me from each threatening ill, 
Control the waves, say, " Peace, be still ! " 

Amidst the roaring of the sea 
My soul still hangs her hopes on Thee ; 
Thy constant love. Thy faithful care 
Is all that saves me from despair. 

Dangers of every shape and name 
Attend the followers of the Lamb, 
Who leave the world's deceitful shore, 
And leave it to return no more. 

Though tempest-toss'd, and half a wreck. 
My Saviour through the floods I seek : 
Let neither winds nor stormy main 
Force back my shatter'd bark again ! 

William Cowper, 1779. 

Why should I, in vain repining. 

Mourn the clouds that cross my way ; 
Since my Saviour's Presence shining 

Turns my darkness into day ? 

Earthly honour, earthly treasure, 
All the warmest passions win, 

And the silken wings of pleasure 
Only waft us on to sin. 

But, within the vale of sorrow, 
All with tempests overblown. 

Purer light and joy we borrow 
From the face of God alone. 

422 The Book of Praise, 

Welcome, then, each darker token ! 

Mercy sent it from above ! 
So the heart, subdued, not broken. 

Bends in fear, and melts with love. 

James Edineston. 1820. 


Why should I fear the darkest hour, 
Or tremble at the Tempter's power ? 
Jesus vouchsafes to be my Tower. 

Though hot the fight, why quit the field ? 
Why must I either fly or yield. 
Since Jesus is my mighty Shield 1 

When creature-comforts fade and die. 
Worldlings may weep, but why should I ? 
Jesus still fives, and still is nigh. 

Though all the flocks and herds were dead. 
My soul a famine need not dread. 
For Jesus is my living Bread. 

i know not what may soon betide, 
Or how my wants shall be supplied ; 
But Jesus knows, and will provide. 

Though Sin would fill me with distress, 
The throne of Grace I dare address, 
For Jesus is my Righteousness. 

Though faint my prayers, and cold my love, 
My stedfast hope shall not remove 
While Jesus intercedes above. 

Discipli7ie. ^2^ 

Against me earth and hell combine ; 
But on my side is Power divine ; 
Jesus is all, and He is minei 

J oh?i Newton. 1779. 


When gathering clouds around I view, 
And days are dark and friends are few, 
On Him I lean, who not in vain 
Experienced every human pain ; 
He sees my wants, allays my fears. 
And counts and treasures up my tears. 

If aught should tempt my soul to stray 

From heavenly wisdom's narrow way ; 

To fly the good I would pursue. 

Or do the sin I would not do ; 

Still He, who felt temptation's power. 

Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. 

If wounded love my bosom swell. 
Deceived by those I prized too well ; 
He shall His pitying aid bestow. 
Who felt on earth severer woe ; 
At once betrayed, denied, or fled. 
By those who shared His daily bread. 

If vexing thoughts within me rise, 
And, sore dismayed, my spirit dies ; 
Still He, who once vouchsafed to bear 
The sickening anguish of despair, 
Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry, 
The throbbing heart, the streaming eye. 

424 The Book of Praise. 

When sorrowing o'er some stone I bend, 
Which covers what was once a friend, 
And from his voice, his hand, his smile, 
Divides me for a Httle while ; 
Thou, Saviour, mark'st the tears I shed. 
For Thou didst weep o'er Lazarus dead ! 

And O ! when I have safely past 
Through every conflict but the last ; 
Still, still unchanging, watch beside 
My painful bed, for Thou hast died ! 
Then point to realms of cloudless day, 
And wipe the latest tear away ! 

Sir Robert Grant. 1 806— 1 8 1 2. 


Whate'er my God ordains is right i 

His will is ever just ; 
Howe'er He orders now my cause, 
I will be still and trust. 
He is my God ; 
Though dark my road. 
He holds mie that I shall not fall ; 
Wherefore to Him I leave it all. 

Whate'er my God ordains is right ; 

He never will deceive ; 
He leads me by the proper path. 
And so to Him I cleave. 
And take content 
What He hath sent ; 
His hand can turn my griefs away, 
And patiently I wait His day. 

Discipline. 425 

Whate'er my God ordains is right ; 

He taketh thought for me ; 
The cup that my Physician gives 
No poisoned draught can be, 
But medicine due ; 
For God is true ; 
And on that changeless truth I build, 
And all my heart with hope is fill'd. 

Whate'er my God ordains is right ; 

Though I the cup must drink 
That bitter seems to my faint heart, 
I will not fear nor shrink ; 
Tears pass away 
With dawn of day ; 
Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart, 
And pain and sorrow all depart. 

Whate'er my God ordains is right ; 

My Light, my Life is He, 
Who cannot will me aught but good ; 
I trust Him utterly; 
For well I know, 
In joy or woe. 
We soon shall see as sunlight clear. 
How faithful was our Guardian here. 

Whate'er my God ordains is right ; 

Here will I take my stand. 
Though sorrow, need, or death make earth 
For me a desert land. 
My Father's care 
Is round me there ; 
He holds me that I shall not fall, 
And so to Him I leave it all. 

Catherine IVitikworth. 1858. 
{From S. Rodigasi.) 

426 The Book of Praise. 



''^Be patient, therefore, brethren, unto the CQ7ni7ig of 
the Lordr — Qames v. 7.) 

When languor and disease invade 

This trembhng house of clay, 
'Tis sweet to look beyond the cage, 

And long to fly away. 

Sweet to look inward, and attend 

The whispers of His love ; 
Sweet to look upward to the place 

Where Jesus pleads above. 

Sweet to look back, and see my Name 

In Life's fair book set down ; 
Sweet to look forward, and behold 

Eternal joys my own. 

Sweet to reflect, how Grace Divine 

My sins on Jesus laid ; 
Sweet to remember, that His Blood 

My debt of sufferings paid. 

Sweet on His Righteousness to stand 
Which saves from second death ; 

Sweet to experience, day by day. 
His Spirit's quickening breath. 

Sweet on His faithfulness to rest, 

Whose love can never end ; 
Sweet on His covenant of grace 

For all things to depend. 

Patience. 427 

Sweet in the confidence of faith 

To trust His firm decrees ; 
Sweet to lie passive in His hand, 

And know no will but His. 

Sweet to rejoice in lively hope, 
That, when my change shall come, 

Angels will hover round my bed, 
And waft my spirit home. 

There shall my disimprison'd soul 

Behold Him, and adore ; 
Be with His Likeness satisfied, 

And grieve and sin no more ; 

Shall see Him wear that very Flesh 

On which my guilt was lain ; 
His Love intense, His Merit fresh. 

As though but newly slain ! 

Soon, too, my slumbering dust shall hear 
The Trumpet's quickening sound ; 

And, by my Saviour's Power rebuilt, 
At His right hand be found. 

These eyes shall see Him in that day, 

The God that died for me ! 
And all my rising bones shall say. 

Lord, who is like to Thee .^ 

If such the views which grace unfolds, 

Weak as it is below, 
What raptures must the Church al30\e 

In Jesus' Presence know ! 

428 The Book of Praise. 

If such the sweetness of the stream, 

What must the Fountain be, 
Where saints and angels draw their bhss 

Immediately from Thee ! 

O ! may the unction of these truths 

For ever with me stay, 
Till, from her sinful cage dismiss'd, 

My spirit flies away ! 

Atigustus Montague Toplady. 1777. 


We're bound for yonder land 
Where Jesus reigns supreme ; 
We leave the shore at His command, 
Forsaking all for Him. 

The perils of the sea, 
The rocks, the waves, the wind, 
Are small, whatever they may be, 
To those we leave behind. 

Nor have we cause to fear ; 
The God, who rules the sea, 
In every danger will be near, 
And our protector be. 

The Lord Himself will keep 
His people safe from harm, 
Will hold the helm, and guide the ship. 
With His Almighty arm. 

Then let the tempests roar, 
The billows heave and swell ; 
We trust to reach the peaceful shore 
Where all the ransom'd dwell ; 

Patience. 429 

And, when we gain the land, 
How happy shall we be ! 
How shall we bless the mighty Hand 
That led us through the sea ! 

Thomas Kelly. i8ogt 


Rejoice, though storms assail thee ; 

Rejoice, w^hen skies are bright ; 
Rejoice, though round thy pathway 

Is spread the gloom of night : 
If the good hope be in thee 

That all at last is well, 
Then let thy happy spirit 

With joyful feelings swell ! 

Look back on early childhood, 

And let thy soul rejoice ! 
Who then upheld thy goings, 

And tuned thy feeble voice ? 
Look back on youth's gay visions 

When life one glory seem'd : 
Who pour'd those rays of gladness 

Which on thy prospect beam'd ? 

Recall the hours of anguish, 

And let thy soul rejoice. 
Though wave on wave of sorrow 

Rush on with fearful noise : 
Was not the Bow of Promise 

Still seen amidst the gloom, 
Shedding its hallow'd lustre 

E'en round the silent tomb ? 

430 The Book of Praise. 

Rejoice, rejoice for ever, 

Though earthly friends be gone ! 
For silently and swiftly 

The wheels of time roll on ; 
And still they bear thee forward 

Nearer that happy shore, 
While the triumphant song is, 

Rejoice for evermore ! 

Anon. [1825.] 


Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee ! 
E'en though it be a cross 

That raiseth me ; 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee ! 

Though like the wanderer. 
The sun gone down. 

Darkness be over me, 
My rest a stone ; 

Yet in my dreams I'd be 

Nearer, my God, to Thee, 
Nearer to Thee ! 

There let the way appear . 

Steps unto Heaven ; 
All that Thou send'st to me 

In mercy given ; 
Angels to beckon me 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee ! 

Patience. 43 ' 

Then with my waking thoughts 

Bright with Thy praise, 
Out of my stony griefs 

Bethel I'll raise ; 
So by my woes to be 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee ! 

Or if on joyful wing 

Cleaving the sky, 
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, 

Upwards I fly, 
Still all my song shall be. 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee ! 

Sarah Flower Adams. 1840. 


Lead, kindly Light, amid th' encircling gloom, 

Lead Thou me on ; 
The night is dark, and I am far from home ; 

Lead Thou me on ; 
Keep Thou my feet ; I do not ask to see 
The distant scene ; one step enough for me. 

I was not ever thus, nor pray'd, that Thou 

Shouldst lead me on ; 
I loved to choose and see my path ; but now 

Lead Thou me on ! 
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, 
Pride ruled my will : Remember not past years I 

432 The Book of Praise, 

So long Thy Power has blest me, sure it still 

Will lead me on 
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till 

The night is gone, 
And with the morn those angel faces smile 
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile ! 

John Henry Newman. 1833. 


Abide with me ! fast falls the even-tide ; 
The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide ! 
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, 
Help of the helpless, O abide with me ! 

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; 
Earth's joys grow dim ; its glories pass away ; 
Change and decay in all around I see ; 
O Thou, who changest not, abide with me ! 

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word ; 
But, as Thou dwell'st wit"h Thy disciples, Lord, 
Famihar, condescending, patient, free, 
Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me ! 

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings ; 
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings ; 
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea ; 
Come, Friend of sinners, and thus 'bide with me ! 

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile ; 
And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, 
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee 
On to the close, O Lord^ abide with me ! 

Patience. 433 

I need Thy Presence every passing hour : 
What but Thy grace can foil the Tempter's power ? 
Who Hke Thyself my guide and stay can be ? 
Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me ! 

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless : 
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness : 
Where is death's sting ? where, Grave, thy victory ? 
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me ! 

Hold then Thy cross before my closing eyes ! 
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies ! 
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows 

In life and death, O Lord, abide with me ! 

Henry Francis Lyte. 1847. 


Commit thou all thy griefs 
And ways into His hands. 
To His sure Truth and tender care, 
Who earth and Heaven commands. 

Who points the clouds their course. 
Whom winds and seas obey, 
He shall direct thy wandering feet, 
He shall prepare thy way. 

Thou on the Lord rely ; 
So safe shalt thou go on ; 
Fix on His Work thy stedfast eye, 
So shall thy work be done. 

F F 

434 The Book of Praise. 

No profit canst thou gain 
By self-consuming care ; 
To Him commend thy cause ; His ear 
Attends the softest prayer. 

Thy everlasting Truth, 
Father ! Thy ceaseless love, 
Sees all Thy children's wants, and knows 
What best for each will prove. 

And whatsoe'er Thou will'st 
Thou dost, O King of kings ; 
What Thy unerring Wisdom chose, 
Thy Power to being brings. 

Thou everywhere hast sway, 
And all things serve Thy might ; 
Thy every act pure blessing is, 
Thy path unsullied light. 

When Thou arisest. Lord, 
Who shall Thy work withstand ? 
When all Thy children want Thou giv'st. 
Who, who shall stay Thy hand ? 

Give to the winds thy fears ; 
Hope, and be undismayed ; 
God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears, 
God shall hft up thy head. 

Through waves and clouds and storms, 
He gently clears thy way ; 
Wait thou His time ; so shall this night 
Soon end in joyous day. 

Patience. 435 

Still heavy is thy heart ? 
Still sink thy spirits down ? 
Cast off the weight, let fear depart, 
And every care be gone. 

What though thou rulest not ? 
Yet Heaven and earth and hell 
Proclaim, God sitteth on the Throne, 
And ruleth all things well ! 

Leave to His sovereign sway 
To choose and to command ; 
So shalt thou wondering own, His way 
How wise, how strong His hand ! 

Far, far above thy thought 
His counsel shall appear, 
When fully He the work hath wrought 
71iat caused thy needless fear. 

Tliou seest our weakness. Lord ! 
Our hearts are known to Thee : 
Oh ! lift Thou up the sinking hand, 
Confirm the feeble knee ! 

Let us, in life, m death, 
Thy stedfast Truth declare, 
And publish, with our latest breath, 
Thy love and guardian care ! 

John Wesley. 172>9- 
{From Paul Gerhardt] 

Your harps, ye trembling saints, 
Down from the willows take ; 
Loud to the praise of Love divine, 
Bid every string awake. 
F F 2 

436 The Book of Praise. 

Though in a foreign land, 
We are not far from home ; 
And nearer to our house above, 
We every moment come. 

His Grace will to the end 
Stronger and brighter shine ; 
Nor present things, nor things to come, 
Shall quench the spark divine. 

Fasten'd within the vail, 
Hope be your anchor strong ; 
His loving Spirit the sweet gale 
That wafts you smooth along. 

Or, should the surges rise. 
And peace delay to come, 
Blest is the sorrow, kind the storm, 
That drives us nearer home. 

The people of His choice 
He will not cast away ; 
Yet do not always here expect 
On Tabor's mount to stay. 

When we in darkness walk, 
Nor feel the heavenly -flame, 
Then is the time to trust our God, 
And rest upon His Name. 

Soon shall our doubts and fears 
Subside at His control ; 
His loving-kindness shall break through 
The midnight of the soul. 

Patie7ice. 437 

No wonder, when His Love 
Pervades your kindling breast, 
You wish for ever to retain 
The heart-transporting Guest. 

Yet learn, in every state, 
To make His will your own ; 
And, when the joys of sense depart, 
To walk by faith alone. 

By anxious fear depress'd, 
When from the deep ye mourn, 
" Lord, why so hasty to depart, 
" So tedious in return 1 " 

Still on His plighted Love 
At all events rely ; 
The very hidings of His face 
Shall train thee up to joy. 

Wait, till the shadows flee ; 
Wait thy appointed hour ; 
Wait, till the Bridegroom of thy soul 
Reveal His Love with power. 

The time of Love will come, 
When thou shalt clearly see. 
Not only that He shed His Blood, 
But that it flowed for thee ! 

Tarry His leisure, then. 
Although He seem to stay ; 
A moment's intercourse with Him 
Thy grief will overpay. 

438 The Book of Pi-aise. 

Blest is the man, O God, 
That stays himself on Thee ! 
Who wait for Thy salvation, Lord, 
Shall Thy salvation see ! 

Augustus Montag7ie Toplacfy. 1772. 


Through the love of God our Saviour 

All will be well ; 
Free and changeless is His favour ; 

All, all is well ! 
Precious is the Blood that heal'd us, 
Perfect is the grace that seal'd us, 
Strong the Hand stretch'd forth to shield us ; 

All must be well ! 

Though we pass through tribulation, 

All will be well ; 
Ours is such a full salvation. 

All, all is well ! 
Happy, still to God confiding, 
Fruitful, if in Christ abiding, 
Holy, through the Spirit's guiding ; 

All must be well ! 

We expect a bright to-morrow, 

All will be well ; 
Faith can sing through days of sorrow, 

All, all is well ! 
On our Father's love relying, 
Jesus every need supplying, 
Or in living, or in dying, 

All must be well ! 

Mary Bowly. 1 847. 

Patience. 439 


Rest weary soul ! 
The penalty is borne, the ransom paid, 
For all thy sins full satisfaction made ; 
Strive not to do thyself what Christ has done, 
Claim the free gift, and make the joy thine own ; 
No more by pangs of guilt and fear distrest, 

Rest, sweetly rest ! 

Rest, weary heart. 
From all thy silent griefs, and secret pain, 
Thy profitless regrets, and longings vain ; 
Wisdom and love have ordered all the past. 
All shall be blessedness and light at last ; 
Cast off the cares that have so long opprest ; 

Rest, sweetly rest ! 

Rest, weary head ! 
Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb : 
Light from above has broken through its gloom ; 
Here, in the place where once thy Saviour lay, 
Where He shall wake thee on a future day. 
Like a tired child upon its mother's breast. 

Rest, sweetly rest ! 

Rest, spirit free ! 
In the green pastures of the heavenly shofe, 
W^here sin and sorrow can approach no more, 
With all the flock by the Good Shepherd fed, 
Beside the streams of Life eternal led. 
For ever with thy God and Saviour blest. 

Rest, sweetly rest ! 

Auon.''H.L. Lr 1859. 

440 The Book of Praise, 


For ever with the Lord ! 
Amen ! so let it be ! 
Life from the dead is in that word, 
And immortahty ! 

Here in the body pent, 
Absent from Him I roam, 
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent 
A day's march nearer home. 

My Father's house on high, 
Home of my soul ! how near, 
At times, to faith's foreseeing eye, 
Thy golden gates appear ! 

Ah ! then my spirit faints 
To reach the land I love. 
The bright inheritance of saints, 
Jerusalem above ! 

Yet clouds will intervene, 
And all my prospect flies ; 
Like N^^h's dove, I flit between 
Rough seas and stormy skies. 

Anon the clouds depart, 
The winds and waters cease ; 
While sweetly o'er my gladden'd heart 
Expands the bow of peace ! 

Beneath its glowing arch, 
Along the hallow'd ground, 
I see cherubic armies march, 
A camp of fire around. 

Patience. 441 

I hear at morn and even, 
At noon and midnight hour, 
The choral harmonies of Heaven 
Earth's Babel tongues o'erpower. 

Then, then I feel, that He, 
Remember'd or forgot. 
The Lord, is never far from me. 
Though I perceive Him not. 

James Montgomery. 1853. 


The God of Abraham praise, 
Who reigns enthroned above, 
Ancient of everlasting days, 
And God of Love ! 
Jehovah ! Great I Am ! 
By earth and Heaven confest ; 
I bow and bless the sacred Name, 
For ever blest ! 

The God of Abraham praise ! 
At whose supreme command 
From earth I rise, and seek the joys 
At His right hand : 
I all on earth forsake, 
Its wisdom, fame, and power. 
And Him my only portion make, 
My Shield and Tower. 

The God of Abraham praise ! 
Whose all-sufficient grace 
Shall guide me all my happy day? 
In all my ways : 

442 The Book of Praise. 

He calls a worm His friend ! 
He calls Himself my God ! 
And He shall save me to the end 
Through Jesus' Blood. 

He by Himself hath sworn, 
I on His oath depend ; 
I shall, on eagle's wings upborne. 
To Heaven ascend ; 
I shall behold His face, 
I shall His power adore, 
And sing the wonders of His grace 
For evermore ! 

Though nature's strength decay. 
And earth and hell withstand, 
To Canaan's bounds I urge my way 
At His command : 
The wateiy deep I pass 
With Jesus in my view, 
And through the howling wilderness 
My way pursue. 

The goodly land I see, 
With peace and plenty blest, 
A land of sacred liberty, 
And endless rest : 
There milk and honey flow, 
And oil and wine abound, 
And trees of life for ever grow. 
With Mercy crown'd. 

There dwells the Lord our King, 
The Lord our Righteousness, 
Triumphant o'er the world and sin, 
The Prince of Peace 1 

Patience. 443 

On Sion's sacred height 
His kingdom still maintains, 
And, glorious with His saints in light, 
For ever reigns ! 

He keeps His own secure ; 
He guards them by His side ; 
Arrays in garments white and pure 
His spotless Bride ; 
With streams of sacred bliss, 
With groves of living joys. 
With all the fruits of Paradise, 
He still supplies. 

Before the great Three-One 
They all exulting stand, 
And tell the wonders He hath done 
Through all their land ; 
The listening spheres attend 
And swell the growing fame, 
And sing, in songs which never end, 
The wondrous Name ! 

The God, who reigns on high, 
The great Archangels sing, 
And, " Holy, holy, holy," cry, 
"Almighty King ! 
"Who Was, and Is, the same, 
" And evermore shall be ! 
" Jehovah ! Father ! Great I Am ! 
"We worship Thee !" 

Before the Saviours face 
The ransom'd nations bow, 
O'erwhelm'd at His Almighty grace, 
For ever new : 

444 The Book of Praise. 

He shows His prints of love ; 
They kindle to a flame, 
And sound, through all the worlds above, 
The slaughter'd Lamb ! 

The whole triumphant host 
Give thanks to God on high ; 
" Hail ! Father, Son, and Holy Ghost !" 
They ever cry : 
Hail ! Abraham's God, and mine ! 
I join the heavenly lays ; 
All might and majesty are Thine, 
And endless praise ! 

Thomas Olivers. 1772. 


Rev. vii. 9—17. 

I saw, and lo ! a countless throng, 
Th' elect of every nation, name, and tongue. 
Assembled round the everlasting Throne ; 

With robes of white endued, 

The Righteousness of God ; 

And each a palm sustain'd 

In his victorious hand ; 
When thus the bright melodious choir begun 

" Salvation to Thy Name, 
" Eternal God, and co-eternal Lamb ! 
" In power, in glory, and in Essence, One !" 

So sung the Saints. Th' Angelic train 
Second the anthem with a loud Amen : 
(These in the outer circle stood, 
The Saints were nearest God ;) 

Patic?ice. 445 

And prostrate fall, with glory overpower'd, 
And hide their faces with their wings, 
And thus address the King of kings : 

" All hail ! by Thy triumphant Church adored ! 
" Blessing and thanks and honour too 

" Are Thy supreme, Thy everlasting due, 

"Our Triune Sovereign, our propitious Lord !" 

Wliile I beheld th' amazing sight, 
A Seraph pointed to the Saints in white. 
And told me who they were, and whence they came: 
" These are they, whose lot below 
" Was persecution, pain, and woe ; 
" These are the chosen purchased Flock, 
" Who ne'er their Lord forsook ; 
"Through His imputed Merit free from blame ; 

" Redeem'd from every sin ; 
"And, as thou seest, whose garments were made 

" Wash'd in the Blood of yon Exalted Lamb. 

" Saved by His Righteousness alone, 
" Spotless they stand before the Throne, 

"And in th' ethereal' Temple chant His praise : 
" Himself among them deigns to dwell, 
"And face to face His Light reveal : 
" Hunger and thirst, as heretofore, 
" And pain, and heat, they know no more, 

" Nor need, as once, the sun's proUfic rays : 
" Immanuel here His people feeds, 
" To streams of joy perennial leads, 

"And wipes, for ever wipes, the tears from every face." 

Happy the souls released from fear, 
And safely landed there 1 

446 The Book of Praise. 

Some of the shining number once I knew, 
And travell'd with them here : 
Nay some, my elder brethren now, 
Set later out for Heaven, my junior saints below : 
Long after me, they heard the call of Grace 
Which waked them unto Righteousness : 
How have they got beyond ! 
Converted last, yet first with glory crown'd ! 
Little, once, I thought that these 
Would first the Summit gain, 
And leave me far behind, slow journeying through 
the Plain. 

Loved while on earth ! nor less belov'd, tho' gone ! 

Think not I envy you your crown : 
No ! if I could, I would not call you down ! 
Though slower is my pace. 
To you I'll follow on, 
Leaning on Jesus all the way ; 
Who, now and then, lets fall a ray 
Of comfort from His Throne : 
The shinings of His grace 
Soften my passage through the wilderness ; 
And vines, nectareous, spring where briers grew : 

The sweet unveilings of His Face 
Make me, at times, near half as blest as you ! 
O ! might His Beauty feast my ravish'd eyes. 
His gladdening Presence ever stay, 
And cheer me all my journey through ! 
But soon the clouds return ; my triumph dies ; 

Damp vapours from the valley rise. 
And hide the hill of Sion from my view. 

Spirit of Light ! thrice holy Dove ! 
Brighten my sense of mterest in that Love 

Patience. 447 

Which knew no birth, and never shall expire ! 
Electing Goodness, firm and free, 
My whole salvation hangs on thee, 
Eldest and fairest daughter of Eternity ! 
Redemption, grace, and glory too, 
Our bliss above, and hopes below. 
From her, their parent-fountain, flow. 
Ah ! tell me. Lord, that Thou hast chosen me ! 
Thou, who hast kindled my intense desire, 
Fulfil the wish Thy influence did inspire, 

And let me my election know ! 
Then, when Thy summons bids me come up 
Well pleased I shall from life retire. 
And join the burning hosts, beheld at distance now. 
Augustus Montague Toplady. 1759 — 1774- 


G G 


Christ Incarnate. 

When Thou, O Lord, in flesh wert drest, 
The world Thou mad'st to free. 

The Inn, where weary travellers rest, 
Had not a room for Thee. 

The Holy Babe in manger rude 

Was all His birth-night laid ; 
Pondering God's words, in thoughtful mood, 

Nigh watched the Mother Maid. 

But oh ! that wondrous midnight round 
What light, what glories throng, 

When man his infant Saviour found, 
And heard the angels' song ! 

Sweet anthem ! caught from hosts on high. 

Dwell thou our hearts within ; 
Blest bridal of the earth and sky, 

Long separate through sin. 

Though all unmeet that gladsome hymn 

For harps by sin unstrung, 
That psalm, by white-robed seraphim 

In God's own presence sung, 
G G 2 

452 The Book of Praise. 

Yet sometimes, when our spirit tires, 
By toil and darkness worn, 

Lord ! make us hear seraphic choirs, 
And give a ghmpse of morn ! 

If love wax cold, and strife increase, 
Chant in our hearts again, 

" Glory to God on high, and peace 
" On earth, good will to men ! " 

yoseph Aiistice. 

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning ! 

Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid ! 
Star of the East, the horizon adorning, 

Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid ! 

Cold on His cradle the dew-drops are shining ; 

Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall ; 
Angels adore Him, in slumber reclining. 

Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all. 

Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion, 
Odours of Edom and offerings divine ? 

Gems of the mountain, and pearls of the ocean, 
Myrrh from, the forest, or gold from the mJne ? 

Vainly we offer each ample oblation ; 

Vainly with gifts would His favour secure : 
Richer by far is the heart's adoration ; 

Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor. 

■Christ Crucified. 453 

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning \ 
Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid ! 

Star of the East, the horizon adorning, 
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid ! 

Bishop Reginald Heber. 1 8 1 1 . 

Christ Crucified. 


Ana was crucified for us under Po7itius Pilate 

He suffered, and was buried!'' 

Ride on ! ride on in majesty ! 
Hark ! all the tribes Hosanna cry ! 
Thine humble beast pursues his road, 
With palms and scattered garments strow'd. 

Ride on ! ride on in majesty ! 

In lowly pomp ride on to die I 

O Christ ! Thy triumphs now begin 

O'er captive Death and conqucr'd Sin. 

Ride on I ride on in majesty ! 
The winged squadrons of the sky 
Look down with sad and wondering eyes 
To see the approaching Sacrifice. 

Ride on ! ride on in majesty ! 
Thy last and fiercest strife is nigh ; 
The Father on His sapphire Throne 
Expects His own anointed Son. 

Ride on ! ride on in majesty ! 
In lowly pomp ride on to die ! 
Bow Thy meek Head to mortal pain ! 
Then take, O God ! Thy power, and reign I 
Henry Hart Milniaft. 1 827. 

454 The Book of Praise. 

Bound upon th' accursed tree, 
Faint and bleeding, Who is He ? 
By the eyes so pale and dim. 
Streaming blood, and writhing limb, 
By the flesh, with scourges torn, 
By the crown of twisted thorn, 
By the side, so deeply pierc'd, 
By the baffled burning thirst, 
By the drooping death-dew'd brow, 

Bound upon th' accursed tree, 
Dread and awful. Who is He ? 
By the sun at noonday pale. 
Shivering rocks, and rending veil, 
By earth, that trembles at His doom, 
By yonder saints, that burst their tomb, 
By Eden, promised ere He died 
To the felon at His side. 
Lord, our suppliant knees we bow ; 
Son of God ! 'tis Thou, 'tis Thou ! 

Bound upon th' accursed tree, 
Sad and dying. Who is He? 
By the last and bitter cry, 
The ghost giv'n up in agony ; 
By the lifeless Body, laid 
In the chamber of the dead ; 
By the mourners, come to weep 
Where the bones of Jesus sleep ; 
Crucified ! we know Thee now ; 
Son of Man ! 'tis Thou, 'tis Thou ! 

Christ Crucified. a 

Bound upon th' accursed tree, 

Dread and awful, Who is He? 

By the prayer for them that slew, 

" Lord ! they know not what they do I "' 

By the spoil'd and empty grave, 

By the souls He died to save, 

By the conquest Fie hath won, 

By the saints before His Throne, 

By the rainbow round His brow, 

Son of God ! 'tis Thou, 'tis Thou ! 

Henry Hart Miluiaii. 1 82 7. 

Not all the blood of beasts, 

On Jewish altars slain, 
Could give the guilty conscience peace. 

Or wash away the stain. 

But Christ, the heavenly Lamb, 

Takes all our sins away ; 
A Sacrifice of nobler name 

And richer blood than they. 

My faith would lay her hand 

On that dear Head of Thine, 
While like a penitent I stand, 

And there confess my sin. 

My soul looks back to see 

The burdens Thou didst bear. 
When hanging on th' accursed tree. 

And hopes her guilt was there. 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 

456 The Book of Praise. 


Come, let us join our cheerful songs 
With angels round the Throne ; 

Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, 
But all their joys are one. 

" Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry, 

" To be exalted thus ! " 
" Worthy the Lamb ! " our lips reply, 

" For He was slain for us." 

Jesus is worthy to receive 

Honour and power divine, 
And blessings, more than we can give, 

Be, Lord, for ever Thine. 

Let all that dwell above the sky. 

And air, and earth, and seas. 
Conspire to lift Thy glories high. 

And speak Thine endless praise. 

The whole Creation join in one 

To bless the sacred Name 
Of Him, that sits upon the Throne, 

And to adore the Lamb ! 

Isaac Watts. 1709. 

Christ Risen. 

Lo ! the day the Lord hath made ! 
From the tomb's funereal shade 
Now the Sun of goodness brings 
Healing on His radiant wings : 

Christ Risen. 457 

And before His bridal light 

All the denizens of night, 

Fear, and shame, and sorrow fade : 

Bless the day the Lord hath made 1 

Angels, who the morn outrun 
To adore the glorious Sun ; 
At whose step the firm earth shakes. 
From whose eye the lightning breaks ; 
Ye, whose hand excels in might ; 
Ye, whose accents breathe delight ; 
Forms in dazzling white array'd ; 
Bless the day the Lord hath made ! 

Holy women, whom the dawn 
Sees by pious duty drawn 
To the Saviour's rock-hewn bed, 
Tears, and unguents rich, to shed ; 
Stay your tears, your gifts withhold ; 
Angel-led, the cave behold, 
Where the Savioui-'s corse was laid : 
Bless the day the Lord hath made I 

Holy men, beloved pair, 

Who with rival speed repair 

To explore the inmost gloom 

Of the yet untrodden tomb ; 

Mark the clothes, that wrapped Him round, 

Swathed His limbs, His temples bound. 

All in seemliest order laid : 

Bless the day the Lord hath made \ 

First of all the faithful train 
To behold thy Lord again, 
Stay not, iVIary, weeping here ; 
See, thy Saviour's self is near : 

458 The Book of Praise. 

Quick thy mighty Master greet, 
Fall in homage at His feet : 
All thy griefs are now repaid : 
Bless the day the Lord hath made ! 

Doubtful hearts, whom late He taught, 
Musing now in anxious thought. 
Cease your doubts, your sorrows cease, 
Hear Him speak the words of peace : 
Deem your eyes no spirit meet ; 
Mark His pierced hands and feet, 
Mark His wounded side display'd : 
Bless the day the Lord hath made ! 

Church of God, whom this fair morn 

Sees to life and glory born, 

Founded on the living Stone, 

Which by Judah's builders thrown, 

Thrown with infamy aside, 

Now becomes thy Strength and Pride ; 

Be thy debt of duty paid ; 

Bless the day the Lord hath made I 

Ever, as this day shall rise 
Beaming in the vernal skies, 
Duly to the Saviour's praise, 
Church of God, the anthem raise ! 
Christ our passover was slain ! 
Keep the feast, and swell the strain : 
Christ is raised from the dead ! 
Bless the day the Lord hath made ! 

Bishop Richard Mant. 1 83 1, 

Christ Risen. 459 

Ad tcnipia nos rursits vocat. 

Morning lifts her dewy veil 

With new-born blessings crown d ; 
Let us haste her light to hail 

In courts of holy ground. 
Christ hath shed a fairer morn, 

From darkness rising free ; 
In his glorious light new-born, 

Let us lift the jubilee. 

From the swaddling bands of night 

When sprang the Avorld so fair, 
Putting on her robes of light, 

O what a power was there ! 
When our God, who gave His Son, 

His guilty foes to spare, 
Woke to life the guiltless One, 

O what a love was there ! 

W^hen from the Eternal's hand 

The earth in beauty stood, 
Ueck'd in light at His command, 

He saw, and called it good. 
Yet a goodlier world it stood 

In the Creator's sight, 
In the Lamb's all-cleansing blood 

Wash'd to celestial white. 

Isaac W'illiaiHS. 1839. 

460 The Book of Praise. 

Christ Ascended, 

Where high the heavenly Temple stands, 
The house of God not made with hands, 
A great High Priest our nature wears, 
The guardian of mankind appears. 

He, who for men their Surety stood, 
And poured on earth His precious Blood, 
Pursues in Heaven His mighty plan, 
The Saviour and the Friend of man. 

Though now ascended up on high, 
He bends on earth a Brother's eye ; 
Partaker of the human name, 
He knows the frailty of our frame. 

Our Fellow-sufferer yet retains 
A fellow-feeling of our pains ; 
And still remembers in the skies 
His tears. His agonies, and cries. 

In every pang that rends the heart 
The Man of Sorrows had a part ; 
He sympathises with our grief. 
And to the sufferer sends relief. 

With boldness, therefore, at the Throne, 
Let us make all our sorrows known ; 
And ask the aid of Heavenly power 
To help us in the evil hour. 

John Logan. 1770. 

CJi rist A seen dcd^ 46 1 


Lord of mercy and of might ! 
Of mankind the Life and Light ! 
Maker, Teacher Infinite ! 

Jesus I hear and save ! 

Who, when sin's tremendous doom 
Gave creation to the tomb. 
Didst not scorn the Virgin's womb, 
Jesus ! hear and save ! 

Mighty Monarch ! Saviour mild ! 
Humbled to a mortal child. 
Captive, beaten, bound, reviled, 

Jesus ! hear and save ! 

Throned above celestial things. 
Borne aloft on angels' wings. 
Lord of lords, and King of kings, 

Jesus I hear and save ! 

Who shalt yet return from high, 
Robed in might and majesty. 
Hear us ! help us when we cry ! 

Jesus ! hear and save ! 
Bishop Rc'gifiald Heber. 1 8 1 1 , 


Thou the cup of death didst drain. 
Thou within the tomb wert laid ; 

Thou art Risen, Thou dost reign, 
Sgraphim Thy subjects made ! 

462 TJie Book oj Praise. 

Lord ! when we recal the story 
Of Thy lowHness and glory, 
Keep us, lest we fall from Thee, 
Through that awful mystery. 

Who can fathom the abyss 

Where Thou plunged'st for our love ? 
Who conceive the glorious bliss 

Waiting on Thy steps above ? 
Cradled in the lowliest shed, 
Weeping, toiling, suffering, dead ! 
Mighty Monarch, throned on high, 
Ruling all in earth and sky ! 

Who is equal to these things ? 

Who such mysteries can brook ? 
Faith, with eagle eye and wings. 

Scarcely there may soar or look. 
Thought must seek that height in vain, 
All her musings turn to pain. 
Whelmed beneath the mighty load 
Of that word, Incarnate God ! 

Blessed, blessed be the Lord ! 

Who on simple souls and poor 
Gently has the knowledge pour'd. 

Which the wise can scarce endure. 
Saved from sinning, happy, healed 
By those mystic truths revealed, 
Changed by power above their own, 
Christ to them is fully known. 

Known when drawing infant breath, 
Known in labour and in pain, 

Known victorious over death, 
Known in His triumphant reign. 

Christ Ascended. 463 

All He suficrcd, all He won, 
God, and woman's wondrous Son : 
All alike from sin restrain, 
All to them is wise and plain. 

Other days may come at last, 

When our purer eyes shall see, 
By no whelming thoughts o'ercast, 

Our salvation's mystery. 
Give us grace meanwhile to rest. 
By obedience taught and blest. 
Sure, that truths which make us free, 
God of counsel, flow from Thee ! 

Joseph Anstice. 1836. 


One there is, above all others. 
Well deserves the name of Friend : 

His is love beyond a brother's, 
Costly, free, and knows no end. 

They who once His kindness prove 

Find it everlasting love. 

Which of all our friends, to save us. 
Could or would have shed their blood 

But our Jesus died to have us 
Reconciled in Him to God. 

This was boundless love indeed ; 

Jesus is a Friend in need. 

When He lived on earth abased. 
Friend of sinners was His name ; 

Now above all gloiy raised, 
He rejoices in the same : 

464 The Book of Praise. 

Still He calls them brethren, friends, 
And to all their wants attends. 

Could we bear from one another 
What He daily bears from us ? 

Yet this glorious Friend and Brother 
Loves us though we treat Him thus : 

Though for good we render ill. 

He accounts us brethren still. 

Oh ! for grace our hearts to soften ! 

Teach us, Lord, at length to love ! 
We, alas ! forget too often 

What a Friend \ye have above : 
But, when home our souls are brought, 
We will love Thee as we ought. 

John Newton. 1779. 

Chj'isfs Kingdom and Judgment. 

When came in flesh th' Incarnate Word, 

The heedless world slept on. 
And only simple shepherds heard 

That God had sent His Son. 

When comes the Saviour at the last, 
From west to east shall shine 

The awful pomp, and earth aghast 
Shall tremble at the sign. 

Then shall the pure in heart be blest ; 

As mild He comes to them. 
As when upon the Virgin's breast 

He lay at Bethlehem : 

Chrisfs Kingdom and Judginoit. ^.6; 

As mild to mcek-eycd love and faith ; 

Only more strong to save ; 
Strengthened, by having bowed to death 

By having burst the grave. 

Lord I who could dare see Thee descend 

In state, unless he knew 
Thou art the sorrowing sinner's Friend, 

The gracious, and the true ? 

Dwell in our hearts, O Saviour blest ! 

So shajl Thine Advent dawn 
'Twixt us and Thee, our bosom-Guest, 

Be but the veil withdrawn. 

Joseph Ansticc. 1836. 


Great Qod, what do I see and hear ! 

The end of things created ! 
The Judge of mankind doth appear 

On clouds of glory seated ! 
The trumpet sounds ; the graves restore 
The dead which they contained before : 

Prepare, my soul, to meet Him ! 

The dead in Christ arc first to rise 
And greet th' Archangel's warning, 

To meet the Saviour in the skies 
On this auspicious morning : 

No gloomy fears their souls dismay 

His Presence sheds eternal day 
On those prepared to meet Him. 

Far over space, to distant spheres, 

The lightnings are prevailing : 
Th' ungodly rise, and all their tears 

And sighs are unavailing : 
H H 

466 The Book of Praise. 

The day of grace is past and gone ; 
They shake before the Judge's throne, 
All unprepared to meet Him. 

Stay, fancy, stay, and close thy \vings. 

Repress thy flight too daring ! 
One wondrous sight my comfort brings. 

The Judge my nature wearing. 
Beneath His cross I view the day 
When Heaven and Earth shall pass away, 
And thus prepare to meet Him. 

William Bengo CoUyer. 181 2. 
{First stanza Anon, from Benjamin Ringwald.) 


That day of wrath, that dreadful day, 
When heaven and earth shall pass away. 
What power shall be the sinner's stay ? 
How shall he meet that dreadful day 1 

When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, 
The flaming heavens together roll ; 
When louder yet, and yet more dread, 
Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ; 

O ! on that day, that wrathful day. 
When man to judgment wakes from clay, 
Be Thou the trembling sinner's stay, 
Though heaven and earth shall pass away I 
Sir Walter Scott. 1805. 

The Holy Catholic Church. 467 


" Urbs Syon aurca, Patria lact.'aP 

Jerusalem the golden. 

With milk and honey blest, 
Beneath thy contemplation 

Sink heart and voice opprest. 

I know not, O I know not, 

What social joys arc there ; 
What radiancy of glory. 

What light beyond compare. 

They stand, those halls of Sion, 

Conjubilant with song. 
And bright with many an angel. 

And all the martyr throng. 

The Prince is ever in them ; 

The daylight is serene ; 
The pastures of the Blessed 

Are decked in glorious sheen. 

There is the Throne of David ; 

And there, from care releas'd. 
The song of them that triumph, 

The shout of them that feast. 

And they, who, with their Leader, 

Have conquer'd in the fight, 
For ever and for ever 
Are clad in robes of white. 

John Mason Ncale. i86r. 
From Bcr/iard of Morlai.v. 

H II 3 

468 The Book of Praise. 


Songs of praise the angels sang, 
Heaven with hallelujahs rang, 
When Jehovah's work begun, 
When He spake, and it was done. 

Songs of praise awoke the morn. 
When the Prince of Peace was born ;_ 
Songs of praise arose, when He 
Captive led captivity. 

Heaven and earth must pass away. 
Songs of praise shall crown that day ; 
God will make new heavens, new earth, 
Songs of praise shall hail their birth. 

And can man alone be dumb. 
Till that glorious kingdom come? 
No : the Church delights to raise 
Psalms, and hymns, and songs of praise. 

Saints below, with heart and voice, 
Still in songs of praise rejoice, 
Learning here^ by faith and love, 
Songs of praise to sing above. 

Borne upon their latest breath, 
Songs of praise shall conquer death ; 
Then, amidst eternal joy, - 

Songs of praise their powers employ. 

Ja77ies Mojitgomery. 1825. 

Resiirrectioii and Eternal Life. 469 

Resurrection and Eternal Life. 


" Hie breve vivitur, hie breve plangitnr'' 

Brief life is here our portion, 

Brief sorrow, short-liv'd care ; 
The hfe that knows no ending, 

The tearless life is there. 

O happy retribution ! 

Short toil, eternal rest ; 
Yor mortals and for sinners 

A mansion with the blest ! 

That we should look, poor wand'rers, 

To have our home on high ! 
That worms should seek for dwellings 

Beyond the starry sky ! 

To all one happy guerdon 

Of one celestial grace : 
For all, for all, who mourn their fall. 

Is one eternal place. 

And martyrdom hath roses 

Upon that heavenly ground : 
And white and virgin lilies 

For virgin souls abound. 

There grief is turned to pleasure ; 

Such pleasure, as below 
No human voice can utter, 

No human heart can know : 

470 The Book of Praise. 

And, after fleshly scandal, 
And after this world's night, 

And after storm and whirlwind, 
Is calm, and joy, and light. 

And now we fight the battle ; 

But then shall wear the crown 
Of full and everlasting 

And passionless renown. 

And now we watch and struggle, 

And now we live in hope, 
And Sion, in her anguish. 

With Babylon must cope : 

But He, Whom now we trust in, 
Shall then be seen and known, 
And they who know and see Him 
Shall have Him for their own. 

JoJui Mason Neale. 1861. 
From Berfia7'd of Morlaix. 

'• T/iy Kingdom Coined 


Almighty God ! Thy word is cast 
Like seed upon the ground : 

Oh ! may it grow in humble hearts. 
And righteous fruits abound. 

Let not the foe of Christ and man 

This holy seed remove ; 
But give it root in praying souls 

To bring forth fruits of love. 

''Thy Will be Doner 471 

Let not the world's deceitful cares 

The rising plant destroy, 
But may it in converted minds 

Produce the fruits of joy. 

Let not Thy word so kindly sent 

To raise us to Thy Throne 
Return to Thee, and sadly tell 

That we reject Thy Son. 

Great God I come down, and on Thy word 

Thy mighty power bestow ; 
That all who hear the joyful sound 

Thy saving grace may know. 

Johfi Cawood. 1816. 

''Thy Will be Doner 

Lord, as to Thy dear cross we flee, 

And plead to be forgiven, 
So let Thy life our pattern be. 

And form our souls for Heaven, 

Help us, through good report and ill, 

Our daily cross to bear, 
Like Thee, to do our Father's will, 

Our brethren's griefs to share. 

Let grace our selfishness expel. 

Our carthliness refine. 
And kindness in our bosoms dwell, 

As free and true as Thine. 

472 The Book of Praise. 

If joy shall at Thy bidding fly, 

And grief's dark day come on, 
We, in our turn, would meekly cry, 

Father ! Thy will be done I 

Should friends misjudge, or foes defame, 

Or brethren faithless prove. 
Then, like Thine own, be all our aim 

To conquer them by love. 

Kept peaceful in the midst of strife, 

Forgiving and forgiven, 
O may we lead the pilgrim's life. 

And follow Thee to Heaven ! 

John Haj}ipdc?i Gurncy, 1838. 


Eternal Beam of Light Divine, 

Fountain of unexhausted love, 

In Whom the Father's glories shine 

Through earth beneath, and Heaven above : 

Jesu ! the weary wanderer's Rest ! 

Give me Thy easy yoke to bear ; 
With stedfast patience arm my breast. 

With spotless love, and lowly fear. 

Thankful I take the cup from Thee, 
Prepar'd and mingled by Thy skill : 

Though bitter to the taste it be, 
Powerful the v.-ounded soul to heal. 

Be Thou, O Rock of Ages, nigh ! 

So shall each murmuring thought be gone : 
And grief, and fear, and care shall fly 

As clouds before the mid-day sun. . 

" Give us this day our Daily BrcaiV^ 473 

Speak to my warring passions peace ; 

Say to my trembling heart, Be still : 
Thy power my strength and fortress is, 

For all things serve Thy sovereign will. 

O Death, where is thy sting ? where now 

Thy boasted victory, O Grave ? 
Who shall contend with God, or who 

Can hurt whom God delights to save? 

Charles Wesley. 1740. 

" Give us this day our Daily Breadi'' 


All wondering on the desert ground 
The hungry thousands gazed around, 
While Jesus for their need display'd 
The power that once the worlds had made. 

Few were the words the Saviour spake ; 
He only blest the bread and brake ; 
The scanty loaves, the fishes few, 
At His commandment ceaseless grew. 

No meagre store, O Lord, have we 

Of grace and blessings shower'd from Thee ; 

Yet in our barren hearts and dry 

More scanty grows the rich supply. 

On desert sands we seem to roam, 
Weary, and faint, and far from home, 
Though pastures green around us grow, 
And Thy still waters near us flow. 

474 The Book of Praise. 

Oh ! with a living growth inspire, 
Not Thy blest gifts^ but our desire, 
That we may taste Thy mercy's store, 
And thirst and hunger never more ! 

John Eriiest Bode. 1 860. 

'''' A7id forgive 11s our Trespasses^ 

O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear, 
I see my JVIaker face to face, 
O how shall I appear ! 

If yet, while pardon may be found. 

And mercy may be sought, 
My heart with inward horror shrinks, 

And trembles at the thought. 

When Thou, O Lord, shalt stand disclos'd 

In majesty severe, 
And sit in judgment on my soul, 

O how shall I appear ! 

But Thou hast told the troubled soul. 

Who does her sins lament. 
The timely tribute of her tears 

Shall endless woe prevent. 

Then see the sorrows of my heart, 

Ere yet it be too late. 
And add my Saviour's dying groans 

To give those sorrows vs'eight. 

Noonday. 475 

For never shall my soul despair 

Her pardon to procure, 
Who knows Thy only Son has died 

To make that pardon sure. 

Joseph Addison. 17 19. 



Up to the throne of God is borne 
The voice of praise at early morn, 
And He accepts the punctual hymn. 
Sung as the light of day grows dim. 

Nor will He turn His ear aside 
From holy offerings at noontide : 
Then here reposing let us raise 
A song of gratitude and praise. 

What though our burthen be not light, 
We need not toil from morn to night ; 
The respite of the mid-day hour 
Is in the thankful Creature's power. 

Blest are the moments, doubly blest. 
That, drawn from this one hour of rest, 
Are with a ready heart bestowed 
Upon the service of our God. 

Each field is then a hallowed spot. 
An altar is in each man's cot, 
A church in every grove that spreads 
Its living roof above our heads. 

476 The Book of Praise, 

Look up to Heaven ! the industrious sun 
Already half his race hath run ; 
He cannot halt nor go astray ; 
But our immortal Spirits may. 

Lord ! since his rising in the east, 
If we have faltered or transgressed, 
Guide, from Thy love's abundant source, 
What yet remains of this day's course. 

Help with Thy grace, through life's short day 
Our upward, and our downward, way ; 
And glorify for us the west. 
When we shall sink to final rest ! 

William Wordsworth. 18^4.. 



Father ! by Thy love and power. 
Comes again the evening hour : 
Light has vanished, labours cease, 
Weary creatures rest in peace. 
Thou, whose genial dews distil 

On the lowliest weed that grows. 
Father ! guard our couch from ill, 

Lull Thy children to repose : 
We to Thee ourselves resign, 
Let our latest thoughts be Thine ! 

Saviour ! to Thy Father bear 
This our feeble evening prayer ; 
Thou hast seen how oft to-day 
We, like sheep, have gone astray : 
Worldly thoughts, and thoughts of pride, 
Wishes to Thy Cross untrue. 

The Old and New Yea?'. Ml 

Secret faults and undescricd, 

Meet Thy spirit-piercing view. 
Blessed Saviour ! yet, through Thee, 
Pray that these may pardoned be. 

Holy Spirit \ Breath of balm ! 
Fall on us in evening s calm : 
Yet awhile, before we sleep, 
We with Thee will vigil keep. 
Lead us on our sins to muse ; 

Give us truest penitence ; 
Then the love of God infuse, 

Breathing humble confidence ; 
Melt our spirits, mould our will, 
Soften, strengthen, comfort still I 

Blessed Trinity I be near 

Through the hours of darkness drear ; 

When the help of man is far, 

Ye more clearly present are. 

Father ! Son 1 and Holy Ghost ! 

Watch o'er our defenceless head. 
Let Your angels' guardian host 

Keep all evil from our bed, 
Till the flood of morning rays 
Wake us to a song of praise. 

Joseph Anstiee. 1S36. 

The Old and Xew Year. 


Now, gracious Lord, Thine arm reveal, 

And make Thy glory known ; 
Now let us all Thy presence feel. 

And soften hearts of stone ! 

478 The Book of Praise. 

Help us to venture near Thy Throne, 

And plead a Saviour's Name ; 
For all that we can call our own 

Is vanity and shame. 

From all the guilt of former sin 

May mercy set us free : 
And let the year we now begin, 

Begin and end with Thee. 

Send down Thy Spirit from above, 
That saints may love Thee more, 

And sinners now may learn to love. 
Who never loved before. 

And when before Thee we appear 

In our eternal home, 
May growing numbers worship here, 

And praise Thee in our room ! 

John Newton. 177(). 

Baptism and Childhood. 

Saviour, who didst from Heaven come down, 

A little Child awhile to be, 
Whose precious blood and thorny crown 

From death and sin have ransomed me : 

Teach me, dear Saviour, some return 

Of lowly service for Thy love, 
Such as a thankful child may learn. 

Such as Thy Spirit shall approve. 

Holy Covimunion. 479 

Young hearts, I hear them say, are claimed 

For God's own altar by Thy word : 
May I lay there my own, unblamed ! 
And wilt Thou lift it heavenward. Lord ? 

James Bullivant Tovtalin. [i860,] 
From Louis, Count Zinzcndorf. 

Holy Communion, 


Here, O my Lord, I see Thee face to face ; 

Here would I touch and handle things unseen ; 
Here grasp with firmer hand the eternal grace, 

And all my weariness upon Thee lean. 

Here would I feed upon the Bread of God ; 

Here drink w^ith Thee the royal Wine of Heaven 
Here would I lay aside each earthly load. 

Here taste afresh the calm of sin forgiven. 

This is the hour of banquet and of song, 
This is the heavenly Table spread for me ; 

Here let me feast, and, feasting, still prolong 
The brief bright hour of fellowship with Thee. 

Too soon we rise ; the symbols disappear ; 

The Feast, though not the Love, is past and gone 
The Bread and Wine remove ; but Thou art here. 

Nearer than ever ; still my Shield and Sun. 

I have no help but Thine ; nor do I need 
Another arm save Thine to lean upon : 

It is enough, my Lord ; enough, indeed; 

My strength is in Thy might, Thy might alone. 

480 The Book oj Praise. 

I have no wisdom, save in Him Who is 

My Wisdom and my Teacher, both in one ; 

No wisdom can I lack while Thou art wise, 
No teaching do I crave, save Thine alone. 

Mine is the sin, but Thine the Righteousness ; 

Mine is the guilt, but Thine the cleansing Blood ; 
Here is my robe, my refuge, and my peace, 

Thy blood. Thy Righteousness, O Lord my God ! 

I know, that deadly evils compass me. 

Dark perils threaten, yet I would not fear, 

Nor poorly shrink, nor feebly turn to flee ; 

Thou, O my Christ, art buckler, sword, and spear. 

But see, the Pillar-Cloud is rising now, 

And moving onward through the desert night ; 

It beckons, and I follow ; for I know 
It leads me to the heritage of Light. 

Feast after feast thus comes, and passes by ;• 
Yet,'passing, points to the glad Feast above, 

Giving sweet foretaste of the fe.stal joy. 

The Lamb's great Bridal Feast of bliss and love. 
Horatiics Bonar. 1856. 


My God, and is Thy Table spread ? 

And does Thy cup with love o'erflow ? 
Thither be all Thy children led, 
' And let them all its sweetness know. 

Hail, sacred Feast, which Jesus makes ! 

Rich banquet of His Flesh and Blood ! 
Thrice happy he, who here partakes 

That sacred stream, that heavenly Food ! 

Holy Cont?nH?iion. 481 

Why are its dainties all in vain 
Before unwilling hearts display'd ? 

Was not for you the victim slain ? 
Are you forbid the children's Bread ? 

O let Thy Table honour'd be, 
And furnished well with joyful guests ; 

And may each soul salvation see, 
That here its sacred pledges tastes. 

Let crowds approach, with hearts prcpar'd ; 

With hearts inflamed let all attend ; 
Nor, when we leave our Father's board, 

The pleasure or the profit end. 

Revive Thy dying churches, Lord ! 

And bid our drooping graces live ; 
And more, that energy afford, 

A Saviour's love alone can give, 

P/i Hip Doddridge. 1755. 


Thou, who hast call'd us by Thy Word 

The marriage feast to share 
Of Thy dear Son, our only Lord, 

Thy bidden guests prepare ! 

No vain excuse we dare to make, 

Thy call we do not slight ; 
We come unworthy ; for His sak 

Help us to come aright ! 

The marriage-garment we require 

Thyself to us impart. 
And with Thy precious gifts inspire 

A pure and thankful heart. 
I I 

482 The Book of Praise. 

And Thou, to whom the Father's love 
The wedding guests has brought, 

Who ever helpest from above 

Those whom Thy blood has bought, 

Lord of the feast ! our coming bless, 

And round our souls entwine 
The garment of Thy Righteousness, 

In which Thy saints shall shine. 

John Ernest Bode. 1 860. 


For mercies, countless as the sands. 

Which daily I receive 
From Jesus my Redeemer's hands, 

My soul, what canst thou give ? 

Alas ! from such an heart as mine, 
What can I bring Him forth ? 

My best is stain'd and dyed with sin, 
My all is nothing worth. 

Yet this acknowledgment I'll make 

For all He has bestow'd ; 
Salvation's sacred cup I'll take, 

And call upon my God. 

The best return for one like me, 

So wretched and so poor, 
Is from His gifts to draw a plea, 

And ask Him still for more. 

Willi am Cow per. 1779. 

Church Dedicatio/i. 483 

Church Dedication. 

O Lord, our languid souls inspire, 
For here, we trust, Thou art ! 

Send down a coal of heavenly fire. 
To warm each waiting heart. 

Dear Shepherd of Thy people, hear. 
Thy Presence now display ; 

As Thou hast given a place for prayer, 
So give us hearts to pray. 

Shew us some token of Thy love, 

Our fainting hope to raise ; 
And pour Thy blessings from above. 

That we may render praise. 

Within these walls let holy peace. 
And love, and concord, dwell ; 

Here give the troubled conscience ease, 
The wounded spirit heal. 

The feeling heart, the melting eye, 
The humbled mind bestow ; 

And shine upon us from on high, 
To make our graces grow. 

May we in faith receive Thy word, 
In faith present our prayers. 

And in the presence of our Lord 
Unbosom all our cares. 
I I 2 

484 The Book of Praise. 

And may the Gospel's joyful sound, 

E.nforced by mighty grace, 
Awaken many sinners round, 

To come and fill the place. 

John Newton. 1779. 

Ordination of Ministers. 


Pour out Thy Spirit from on high ; 

Lord, Thine assembled servants bless ; 
Graces and gifts to each supply, 

And clothe Thy priests with righteousness. 

Within Thy temple when we stand 
To teach the truth, as taught by Thee, 

Saviour, like stars in Thy right hand 
The angels of the Churches be ! 

Wisdom, and zeal, and faith impart, 
Firmness, with meekness from above, 

To bear Thy people on our heart, 

And love the souls whom Thou dost love : 

To watch, and pray, and never faint, 
By day and night strict guard to keep. 

To warn the sinner, cheer the saint, 

Nourish Thy lambs, and feed Thy sheep : 

Then, when our work is hnish'd here, 
In humble hope our charge resign ! 

When the chief Shepherd shall appear, 
O God ! may they and we be Thine ! 

Jatnes Montgo7nery. i8: 

The Calh 485 


Fearless, calm, and strong in love, 
Would'st thou ply the Gospel net ? 
Then remember God above, 
And thyself forget. 

Like the fisher, patient be ; 
Try at morn, and try at even, 
PI ope, where thou canst nothing see ; 
And still trust in Heaven. 

Never shall the net be cast 
All in vain, though cast amiss : 
Wait the great Day and the last. 
Ere thou judge of this. 

O what issues that may show 
Even of thy poor toil and care ! 
But, till then, enough to know 
Thou dost neither spare. 

Spend, then, and be spent, in love ; 
Take the task before thee set ; 
Souls to win for Heaven above, 
And thyself forget. 

Thomas Davis. 186: 

The Call. 

Awake, my soul I lift up thine eyes, 
See where thy foes against thee rise, 
In long array, a numerous host ; 
Awake, my soul ! or thou art lost. 

486 The Book of Praise. 

Here giant Danger threatening stands, 
Mustering his pale terrific bands ; 
There pleasure's silken banners spread, 
And willing souls are captive led. 

See where rebellious passions rage, 
And fierce desires and lusts engage ; 
The meanest foe of all the train 
Has thousands and ten thousands slain. 

Thou tread'st upon enchanted ground, 
Perils and snares beset thee round ; 
Beware of all, guard every part. 
But most, the traitor in thy heart. 

Come then, my soul, now learn to wield 
The weight of thine immortal shield ; 
Put on the armour from above 
Of heavenly truth and heavenly love. 

The terror and the charm repel. 
And powers of earth, and powers of hell ; 
The Man of Calvary triumphed here : 
Why should His faithful followers fear? 

Anna Lcetitia Barbaidd. I'J'JI- 


IT.— Part of Hymn No. 100 in Mant's Ancient Hymns, &o. Tbrcc 

stanzas out of eiglit are omitted. 
IV.— The text of this hvmn is from The Devout Chorister (Masters ; 
Third Edition, 1854) ; in whicli book it was first published ; 
and the author's name is given, by his kind permission, 
v.— The text of this is from the Fifth Edition (Newcastle, no date, 
but water-mark 1810) ; of the ilev. Thomas CotterUl's Psalms 
mid Hymns. 
vii.— From Hymns Jor the Church of England (Longman, 1857). 
The first and third stanzas are adapted, by Mr. Darling, from 
Nos. 49 and 30 of John Quarles' Divine Ejaculations. 
vi II. —From John and Charles Wesley's Collection of Psalms anil 
Hymns (the first edition published in 1741). The Tsalm, as 
rendered by Watts, is in six stanzas, of which tlie Wesleys 
omitted the first and fourth, and varied the second by substi- 
tuting the well-known lines, 

"Before Jehovah's awful throne, 
Ye nations, bow with sacred joy ; " 
for Watts' original, 

'•Nations, attend before his throne 
"With solemn fear, with sacred joy." 
The only other change is the word ' ' shall " instead of ' ' must," 
in the tliird line of the last stanza. 
XII. —Three stanzas out of six. The first, second, and fifth of Watts' 

are omitted. 
XV.— Nine stanzas out of twelve (the first, third, and eleventh of 
Watts' being omitted). The word " God" is brought down into 
the first line, from the first (omitted) stanza, instead of "Him." 
XVI.— The four first strinzas of H\Tun No. 11, Book II. in Gibbons' 
Hymns udaj^tcd to Divine Worshij^ (London, 1784) ; sometimes 
wrongly ascribed to Berridge. Gibbons has seven stanzas, 
xxiii.— Four out of five stanzas, Lyte's fourth being omitted. 
XXVIII.— The first thirteen out of forty-two stanzas. The poem is 
the last of several in Skelton's Appeal to Common Sense on the 
Subject of Christianity. (Dublin, 1784.) 
xxxii —Stanzas 1, 6, 0, and 10, of a poem in ten stanzas (No. GS 
of T. Grinfield's Century of Sacred Songs). I have adhered to 
the selection made by the late Rev. John Hampden Gurney 
in the Marylebone Hymn-Book of 1851. 

xxxin.— My only authoritv for ascribing this to Tate is the late 
Rev. iEdward Bickersteth; but the author.sliip seems piobable, 
as this is one of the hymns included in the "Supplement to the 
New Version," for the use of whii^i Brady and Tate obtained 
from Queen Anne an Order in Council, dated tlic 30tli July, 

488 Notes. 


XXXIV.— The text is that of the foiu'th edition (1743) of Hymns and 
Sacred Poems, by Jolui and Charles Wesley ; differing in one 
word only ("Heavenly," instead of "Inner," in the second 
line of the last stanza) from the first edition, published iu 
1739. The common variation, beginning, "Hark, the herald 
angels sing," is i)robably by Martin Madan (1760), who, be- 
sides altering several lines, has left out part (but not the 
whole) of the two last stanzas, which are usually omitted at 
the end of modem editions of the New Version of the Psalms. 
The word " welldn," in the first line, is open to criticism, but 
in other respects I prefer Wesley's original to Madan's varia- 

xxxviii. — From Christian Lyrics (Norwich : J. Fletcher ; 1860). 
Mr. Sears is an American writer, and I have not been able 
to obtain access to his original text. 
XL.— From the volume, published in 1829 (London : Cadell & Co.), 
under the title S2nrit of the Psalms, which is not to be con- 
founded with the work of the Rev. H. F. Lyte, afterwards 
published under the same title, in 1834. 

XLT. — Tliis hymn is from Hymns Ancient and Modern, for Use in 
the Services of the Chtirch (London: Novello ; 1861). I 
am indebted to the Rev. Sir Hem-j' Baker, Bart, (one of the 
editors of that collection), for the permission, which he has 
kindly obtained for me from the author, to publish his name, 
as well as for the authentication of the text. I am also in- 
debted to him and his co-editors for their consent to the 
use which I have made of this hymn, and of tlu-ee others, 
contributed by Sir Henry Baker himself to the same collec- 
tion, to which he has allowed me to affix his name. 

XLii. — Five out of seven stanzas. Those omitted are Doddridge's 
second and si.xth. 

XLVi. — Five stanzas out of a hymn which, as first published in 
1740 (then beginning "Glorj^ to God, and praise, and love"), 
consisted of eighteen stanzas ; and which, in the seventeenth 
edition of Hymns and Spiritmd Sonr/s (Pine, Bristol; 1773), 
was reduced to eleven stanzas; then beginning as in the 
present text. In the Hymn-Book for Methodists, it consists 
of ten stanzas ; one of which is taken from the earlier 
edition, and is not in that of 1773. 

XLViii. — Four out of five stanzas. Tliat omitted is the fourth 
of Watts. 

Lii. — Five out of eight stanzas. Tliose omitted are the fourth, 

fifth, and seventh of Watts. 
LV.— Six out of seven stanzas. That omitted is the third of 

Lvii. — This hymn, as here given, was introduced into the Marjdebone 
Collection (18-51) from a poem of some length, published in 
1831, in The Iris, a volume edited by the Rev. Thomas Dale. 
Tlie text (which will be found at page 139 of that volume) 
is unaltered, except that the first word "Saviour," has been 
brought down from a preceding line, in substitution for the 
words "And then," so as to give to these stanzas an indepen- 
dent beginning. 

JSfotes. 489 


LYiii. — Nine out of eleven stanzas. Those omitted are the fifth 
and seventh of Mrs. Barbauld. 
LX. — I have not succeeded in tracing the author, or the original 
text of this hymn. The earliest edition of the A>«; Version 
of the Psalms, to which Mr. Sedgwick has been able to find it 
appended, was jiublished in 1796. The earliest publication, 
in which he has met with the three first stanzas is The 
Comjjlcat Psalmodist, by John Arnold ; of which the .second 
edition was published in 1750. The "Gloria," which consti- 
tutes the fourth stanza, goes with the hymn in some modern 
books, and suits it so well, that I have ventured to retain 
it. This "Gloria" is certainly by Charles Wesley; it will 
be found at page 242 of the fourth edition (1743) of the 
Hymns and Sacred Poems, by the two brothers. 

LXi.— This hymn (No. 2, in the Rev. John Chandler's Hymns of the 
Primitive Church) is, as stated by himself in his Preface to 
that work, a variation from a translatiun of the same Latin 
original, by the Rev. Isaac Williams ; which had previously 
appeared in the P.ritish Mayazine, and which is No. 2 in Mr. 
Williams' Hymns Translated from the Parisian Breviary 
(Rivingtons; 1830). 

LXii. — A selection, adopted by me out of the Marylebone Hymn 
Book of 1851 (where it is erroneously ascribed to A. Gray), 
from a hjnun in nine stanzas of eight lines each, by the late 
Mr. George Mogridge, i)opularlj' known as " Old Humphrey." 
There is no alteratiijn in the words ; but the two tetrastichs 
composing the first stanza are transposed. The entire hymn 
will be found in My Poetry Book, published by the Religious 
Tract Society, at p. 128. 

LXiv. — Dr. Neale's hymn is divided into thirteen unequal parts, 
the first seven of which constitute the present text. 

Lxvi. — I have taken this hjnnn from Mr. Martineau's Hymns for 
the Christian Church and Home (Longman ; twelfth edition ; 
1856), in which it is No. 234. The A^ithoress (whose genuine 
text I have not l)een able to verifj'), is, as I have reason to 
believe, an American lady. 

Lxviii. — The date assigned to this hjnnn, and to No. cccxcviii. are 
those of their ])ublication. by the autlmr himself, in the 
Christioji Observer. The other hymns of Sir Robert Grant, 
in this collectitm, bear the date of the iio.sthumous republi- 
cation of his collectctl hynnis, by his lirothcr, Lord Glenelg. 

LXix. — Four out of nine stanzas, of unequal length, from Bishop 
IVIant's Hdlydays of the Church; or. Scriptural Xarratii'es and 
Biograph iced Notices, vol. ii. p. 536 (Oxford: Parker; 1831). 

Lxx.— The Offices of John An.stin. containing hymns of striking 
excellence, were adapted to the use of members of the 
Church of England, first by Theoi>liilus Dorrington, and 
afterwards by the Nonjuring Bishop Hi«'kcs. Donington, 
in some cases, altered Austin's hymns ; Ilickes almost always 
reprinted them without alteration. This hymn is No. 31 in 
Austin's Offices, where it consists of seven st^uizas ; the first 
of which was omitted, and some of the others slightly altered, 
by Charles Wesley. Iho present text is taken Horn the first 

490 Notes. 

edition (1739) of the Wesleys' Hymns and Sacred Poems, 
page 130, where it is entitled Hymn to Christ; altered frovi 
Dr. HicJccs' '' Reformed Devotions." 

Lxxi.— The text of this hjinn is given from Toplady's Collection, 
published in 1776. ' Whether it is Mr. Bakewell's genuine 
work, or was altered by Toplady, is not certain. Tlie hj-nm, 
as first published by JIadan, in 1760, wants the last stanza, 
(which is by some ascribed to James Allen ;) and differs 
from the present text in some other respects. Both Madan 
and Toplady were friends of the author : and the probability 
seems to be, that it was revised and altered by the author 
himself, for Toplady's Collection. 

T.XXIII. — Twenty-three out of twenty-eight stanzas, communicated 
by -Mr. Turner, one of the authors, to Dr. Rippon in 1791 
(See Rippon's Baptist Annnal Register, vol. iii. p. 471). The 
first four stanzas of the text are by Fanch, who also v^'rote 
the three which follow them In the original, but .which are 
here omitted, because they are repeated in substance towards 
the end of the part contributed by Turner. The stanzas, 
from "Blest angels," to the end, are by Turner, and were 
published by him separately, with variations (not improve- 
ments), in a little volume, printed in 1794. Abridgments 
of this hymn, more or less varied (usually beginning " Beyond 
the glittering starry skies"), occur in several modern hyinn- 
books ; one of the first of them appeared in Dr. Rippon's 
own Collection. 

Lxxiv. — The three last out of five stan2as (Hymn lviii. in Book I. of 
Watts' Hymns and Spiritnal So^ififs, beginning "Let mortal 
tongues attempt to sing"). 

Lxxix. — This hjTnn, (composed in 1S33,) was originally published 
in Metrical Psalms and Hymns for singiyig in Churches 
(T>'orcester, 1849).— Seven stanzas out of eight. That omitted is Montgomerj-'s 

Lxxxi.— This is one of a small number of compositions by Michael 
Bruce (a Scottish schoolmaster, who died very young), Avhich 
have been the subject of much controversy in Scotland, and, 
indeed, of a kind of litarary romance. They a^tpear to have 
been intrusted in manuscript by Michael Bruce, or by his 
father, to John Logan, who, some time after Bruce's death, 
published them with variations, in his own name. Tlie 
eighteenth "Paraphrase" is a variation of this hymn; no 
doubt contributed by Logan. The present is Bruce's original 
te.xt, as given in Mr. Mackelvie's collection of his poems 
(Edinburgh : Paterson ; 1837). 

Lxxxii.— Six out of eight stanzas. The second and third of Watts' 
are omitted. 

Lxxxiii.— Four out of six stanzas. The second and third of Watts' 
are omitted. 

Lxxxiv. — The dates assigned to this hymn, and to Nos. cxli. and 
CLXxvii. and the two "Additional HjTuns," Nos. 2 and 9, 
are those of their original publication in the Christian 

Notes. 491 


Observer. The rest of Bisliop Hebcr's Hj-mns (as well as 
Dean Milman's), in tliis volume, bear the date of the publi- 
cation of the Bishop's Hymn-book, in 1827. 

Lxxxvi.— The text of this hjTnn, and of No. cm. as now corrected 
is from the first edition of Psalms and Hymns (Ipswich, 
1813), bj' the author, the Rev. William Hum, formerly Vicar 
of Debenham. 

Lxxxvni.— The text is from Conder's Hymn (London : Snow ; 1850) ; 
where this is a complete hymn. As first published by the 
author, in The Choir and the Oratory (Jackson and Walford, 
1S37), these were the last four of thirteen stanzas, on "Thy 
Kingdom Come." 

xc. — This popular hjnnn is a cento, composed by Martin Madan, 
with some variations, out of two hymns by Charles Wesley 
(Xos. 38 and 39 of Hymns of Intercession for all Mankind), 
and one by John Cennick (No. 128 in his Collection of Sacred 
Hymns; Fifth Edition, Dublin ; 1762). The choice and arrange- 
ment of the stanzas, ns made by Madan, is here ]ire.ser\-ed, 
as are his variations of the third and fourth stanzas (Cennick' .s), 
of which the last lines do not rhyme iu the original. The first 
two stanzas and the last are from Wesley's No. 39, a hymn 
of four stanzas. Madan made some alterations in che "first 
and the last, which (with the exception of "0 come quickly," 
taken by him from Cennick, instead of Wesley's "Jah, 
Jehovah!") 1 have not retained. The second, and the fifth 
(which is the concluding stanza of Wesley's No. 38), he did 
not alter. 

xcr. — The preceding hymn is generally, by a popular eiTor, at- 
tributed to Olivers, the only foundation for tliat error being, 
that he ado])ted its first line as the beginning of one of his 
stanzas, which (though the first of those selected here) is 
not the first in either edition of his Judgrnent Hymn. His 
hymn was greatly altered and enlarged iu its .scrond edition, 
from which the present text is taken ; being a selection of 
eleven out of thirty-six stanzas. 

xciv.— This tran.slation of Veni Creator (by an unknown hand) was 
first introduced into the Office for the Ordination of Priests 
npon the revision of the Liturgy of the Church of England, 
in 1662. 

xcviii. — Seven out of nine stanzas. Hart's seventh and eighth are 
c.—Jacobi's translation will be found at page 43 of Ilaberkorn's 
Psalmodia Germanica (London, 1765). It consists of ten 
stanzas, of which Toplady adojited and altered .six. Top- 
lady's third stanza is here omitted. 
CI.— Five out of six stanzas ; from ;Mant's Holydays of the Church 
(vol. ii. page 317). The Bishop's first stanza is omitted. 

CIV. — The last seven out of eleven stanzas (No. 24 of John 
Mason's Songs of Praise). 

ovi.— Four out of eight stanzas : (the fourth, fifth, sixth, and 
seventh of Watts' are omitted). 

492 Notes. 


cviii. — Fourteen out of twenty-six stanzas. This is the most ancient 
of all the compositions included in this volume, and it is the 
true English source of all the "New Jerusalem HjTnns" of 
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. It is printed at 
length in Dr. Bonar's interesting Preface to his edition, 
published in 1852 (Edinbiu-gh : Johnstone and Hi;nter), of 
David Dickson's Is^w Jerusalem, which is itself a mere va- 
riation of this hymn, with thirty-six more stanzas added to 
it. The original hjnnn is contained in a MS. quarto volume, 
numbered 15,22.5, in the British Museum, the date of which 
seems (from the internal evidence, as stated by Dr. Bonar), 
to be about 1 616. The hymn itself (which is entitled, A Song 
hy F.B.P. to the tune of Diana) is, probably, of Queen 
Elizabeth's time. 

cix.— The text of this hymn (printed in the first edition of the 
present volume, from the Ninth Edition of Grossman), has 
been now con-ected, and restored as it originally appeared in 
the first Edition of the Young Man's Calling, or the tohole 
Duty of Youth, dx. with Divine Poems : except that the third 
stanza, which was omitted by Grossman in his second and all 
subsequent editions, is also omitted here. 

ex. — I have been unable to trace this hymn higher than to the 
Collection of Dr. Williams and Mr. Boden, first published in 
1801, in which it is stated to be from "EcJcinton Collection;" 
and I have not discovered the author, or the original text. 
In the collections which give it most fully, there are seven 
stanzas ; of v.iiich one, the third (a stanza of inferior merit, 
and borrowed directly from an older hymn), is here omitted. 

cxiii. — Fiveoutof six stanzas; from HymncxLiii.of Berridge'sSio7!,'s 
Songs. The stanza omitted is BeiTidge's fourth. The last 
couplet of the second stanza is taken by Berridge, with very 
little alteration, from Ralph Erskine's Gospel Sonnets(FRrt V. 
section 6) ; and the whole hymn follows so closely in Erskine's 
track, that it might properly be described as a variation froiu 

CXI7. — The text is that of the 66th Scotch Paraphrase, in which 
Cameron, taking the general plan, and mu(-h of the detail and 
expression of Watts' hymn (No. 41 of Watts' Book I.), has 
recast the whole composition, with excellent effect. 

cxvi. — Four out of five stanzas. That omitted is Newton's fourth. 

cxxTi. — The first ten lines of this hjnnn were left a fragment by 
Kirke Wliite, written on the back of one of his mathematical 
liapers. They came after his death into the hands of Dr. 
Gollyer, who published them, with six (not very successful) 
lines of his own added, in his Hymn-Book of 1812, where 
the hjTun is numbered 867. The task of finishing it was more 
happily accomplished by Miss Maitland, in the form in which 
it is here given, and which first appeared in a volume jjub- 
lished by Hatchard in 1827, under the title of Hymns for 
Private Devotion, selected and original. 

cxxiii. — Five out of ten stanzas. 

cxxv. — Six out of seven stanzas. That omitted is Newton's third. 

Notes. 493 


cxxvi. — Eight out of twelve stanzas. Those omitted are the third, 
ninth, tenth, and eleventh of Cennick. 

cxxvii. — Hammond's hjTim (which will be found at page S5 of his 
Psalms, Hymns, ojid Spiritual Songs; London, 174.0) is in 
fourteen stanzas. Of these, the first, second, and thirteenth, 
are the same, except some verj' slight verlml clianges, with the 
three first stanzas of Madau's variation. The last two stanzas 
of the variation are an expansion by Madan of Hammond's 
concluding stanza. 

cxxviir. — Chandler concludes this hymn with a "Gloria," which is 
omitted here. 

cxxxiii.— Three out of seven stanzas. 

cxLii. — Six out of eight stanzas. 

cxLviii. — This and No. clxiii. are taken, by permission of the 
authoress, from The Legend of the Gohhn Prayers, and other 
Poems (London : Bell and Daldy ; 1S59 ; pages 139—142). 
Both hynms had been previously published at or before the 
dates marked in the text. 

CLV. — This is a variation from the first four and the last two stanzas 
of James Montgomery's Verses to the Memory of the late Joseph 
Brmvne, of Lethersdale, a poem in fourteen stanzas (of four 
lines each), which was written about 1S03, and published in 
The Wanderer of Switzerland, and other Poems, ill ISOG. The 
hjTun, in its present form, seems to have first appeared in 
Dr. Collyer's Collection, published in 1812 ; but I have not 
been able to ascertain whether the variation is due to Dr. 
Collyer, or (as, from the internal evidence, I should have 
thought very probable) to Montgomery himself. It is not, 
however, included in Montgomery's C(dle(;tion of his own 
h3'mns. published in 1853, nor is it in his Christian Psalmist, 
published in 1825. 

CLViii. — The last four out of five stanzas. (The hymn is Xo. 86, 
Book II. of Watts.) 

CLX. — Eight out of eleven stanzas. (Theodosla's Poems, vol. i. page 
159; Bristol edition of 1780.) The .stanzas omitted are the 
fourth, fifth, and sixth of the authoress. 

CLxviii. — Seven out of nine stanzas. The fourth and eighth of Watts 
are omitted. 

CLXXi. — Four out of six stanzas. The fourth and fifth of Watts' are 

CLXXVi. — From Hymns and Poems, by Sir Edward Denny, Bart. 
(Nisbet, 1848.) 

CLXxviii. — The first five out of six stanzas. 

CLXXx.— The text of tin's h>Tnn is from Dr. Raffles' Collection, 
whom I understand (on Mr. Sedgwick's authority) to liave 
had it from the author. 

CLXXXii.— This, and No. ccxc-vt. are by Dr. Ray Palmer, a living 
American writer. The text has been compared with authentic 
American copies, and found correct. 

OLXXXvi. — Eight out of eleven four-line stanzas, which constitute 
the latter part of The Covenant and Confidence of Faith, in 

494 Notes, 


Baxter's Poems (Pickering's edition, 1821 ; page 71). The 
stanzas omitted are the first, third, and fifth, at the page 
referred to. 

CLXXxix. — Four stanzas out of eight. The hymn is No. 32 in John 
Austin's Offices. The stanzas omitted are the first three, and 
the "Gloria" at the end. 

cxc. — Five stanzas out of six. The stanza omitted is Cowper's fifth. 

cxci. — Five stanzas out of eight. Those omitted are Wesley's fifth, 
sixth, and seventh. The hymn is at page 30 of the Hymns and 
Sacred Poems (Second Edition; Bristol, 1743). 

cxciii. — The last stanza is wanting in Miss EUiott's Hours of Sorroio 
cheered arid comjorted (Fourth Edition, 1849 ; page 13(5). It is, 
however, as I have ascertained, the concluding stanza of the 
hymn, as originally composed by the authoress. 

cxciv.— From a memoir of the Life of Oberlin, published anony- 
mously in 1830 (London, Ball). The translator is Mrs. 
Daniel Wilson, of Islington ; who, since this edition was 
prepared for the press, has kindly permitted me to give her 

cxcv.— Five out of ten stanzas (Theodosia's Poems; vol. i. p. 134, of 
the edition of 1780). The stanzas omitted are the third to 
the seventh inclusive. 

ccii.— From The Rivulet (Longman and Co. ; Second Edition 

cciii.— Five out of ten stanzas, from Mant's Holydays of the Church 
(vol. ii. jtage 563). The Bishop's fifth, sixth, seventh, ninth, 
and tenth stanzas are omitted. 

ccv. — From the Hymns for Public Worship, of the Society for 
Promoting Christian Knowledge. The author, and the 
original text, unknown. 

ccvi.— A curious example of a successful cento. Each stanza is 
taken from a different hymn by Mason ; the four hymns, 
which have each contributed one stanza, being Nos. 6, 7, 9, 
and 8, of Mason's Songs of Praise. Mr. Gurney (who had 
been to some extent anticipated in this operation, by former 
Collectors — e.g. Montgomery, in the Christian Psalmist, gives 
a composite hymn of greater length, from the same sources) 
has introduced some slight verbal alterations, which are here 

CCTX.— Five out of eight stanzas (Condefs Hymns; London, Snow ; 
p. 140). The stanzas omitted are Conder's second, third, and 

ccxiii.— The text is that of the second Scotch Paraphrase. It is 
slightly different from that printed in Logan's works, where 
some of the pieces, now ascertained to be by Michael Bruce, 
are still ascribed to Logan, who originally published them as 
his o-ivn. The true original (which begins, " God of Jacob," 
&c.) is No. 4 of Doddridge's hymns ; it has been re-written, 
and certainly improved, by Logan. 

ccxix. — The first five out of six stanzas. 

ccxx. — The first five out of six stanzas (fi'om Watts Divine Songs 
for Children; Song P). 

Notes. 495 


C'cxxiii.— Six stanzas out of eight (from Lyte's rocms, chiefly 
Iteligioxis; London, Nisbet ; p. l^iS). The stanzas omitteil 
are the fourth and eighth of Lyte. 

ccxxiv. — The text of this hymn is from Le Bas' Life of Bishop 
Middktoii (Rivingtons, 1831). 

ccxxvi.— John Mardley's original is the Ihimhle Lamentation of 
a Sinner; usually appended to the "Old Version" of the 
Psahns. In Bishop Heber's book, it is erroneously ascribed 
to Sternhold ; and no notice is there taken of tlie Bisliop's 
extensive variations. 

ccxxviTi.— Three out of four stanzas. The stanza omitted is Mr. 
Russell's third. 

ccxxix. — This and No. ccm. were communicated to me in manu- 
script by the kindness of my friend, Mr. Palgrave. 

ccxxxi.— Three out of four stanzas ; the fourth is that omitted. 

CCXLiii.— From Hymns for Sunday Schools, Original and Selected 
(Cambridge : Second Edition, 1844); by the Rev. C. J. Phipps 
Eyre. The first two and the fourth lines are by Waring, 
the rest by a different hand, but whose, I have not been able 
to ascertain. 

ccxLiv.— This, and ccxciv, first appeared in HalVs CoUection(l836). 
The present text is from a collection of tracts and hymns, 
published in 1837, with the author, Mr. Osier's, name, "under 
the title of Church and King. (Smith, Elder, and Co. ) 

ccxLVi. — The text of this, and of Xos. cclvii. and cci.xv. is from 
the edition of 1709, containing Bishop Ken's latest correc- 
tions. That of the earlier editions will be found in Mr. 
Anderdon's Life of Ken, and in Mr. Sedgwick's recent edition 
of Ken's hymns ; since the publication of which, the discovery 
of a copy of the edition of 1709 (now in my po.s.sessi(>n) has 
settled the controversy, preAiously raised, as to the genuine- 
ness of the present text. 

ccxLviii.— The last twelve of sixteen stanzas, from the first poem 
in the Christian Year. 

ccLiii.— I am indebted for the communication of this hymn and 
No. ccLxvi. to the kindness of the author, the Rev. James 
Ford, Prebendary of Exeter. 

CCLVi. — A variation froni Watts' " Dread Sovereign, let my evening 
song" (No. VII. of Watts' Hymns, Book H. ). Browne has 
altered the metre, and has re-written and improved the whole 

ccLix. — The last twelve of fourteen stanzas, from the second poem 
in the Christian Year. 

CCLX.— This Hymn (originally taken by the Editor from The Xew 
Congregational Hymn Book, Jackson, Walford, and Co.), was, 
by mistake, ascribed in the former iiniiressionsof this volume 
to Thomas Park. It was first published in The Wreck of the 
Golden Mary, constituting the extra number of Household 
Words, for Christmas, 1850. 

ccLXiv. — One couplet only is omitted ; \\z. that which, in Doddridge's 
text, follows the sixteenth line. The hymn, as originally, and 
generally, printed, is divided into three unequal parts ; tho 

496 Notes. 


first consisting of eighteen lines, the second of twenty-eight, 
and the third of twenty-foixr. I have A'entured to adopt a 
division into stanzas, as being more suitable for music. 

ccLxvii. — Five out of seven stanzas. The omitted stanzas are 

Doddridge's second and fifth. 
ccLxix. — This, and No. ccxcix. were first publi.shed in Lord Nelson's 

Salisbury Hymnal; from whence they are taken, and the 

aiithor's name now for the first time added, by Mr. Keble's 

and Lord Nelson's kind permission. 

CCLXX. — The repeated couplet is talcen from Milton's translation of 
the 136th Psalm; with the change of Milton's word "aye," 
into "still." 

ccLxxvi. ccLxxix. — Both these are taken (with four of his own 
hymns), by the permission of the Rev. Arthur Tozer Russell, 
from his Ilymn.Book i Psalms and Hymns, &c. ; Cambridge ; 
Deighton, 1851), in which they were first published. The 
author is the Rev. Henry Dowuton, formerly of Chatham, 
and now of Geneva. 

ccLXxxi.— This, and No. ccclxxxix. are from Parish Musings, by 
the Rev. Dr. J. S. B. Monsell, Vicar of Egham (Rivingtons ; 
Fifth Edition ; 1S60), and are inserted by his kind permission. 

ccLxxxii. — This Hymn (now ascertained to be by Mr. Osier) first 
appeared in the Rev. W. J. Hall's collection (London : Wix, 

ccLxxxv.— Six out of twelve stanzas. Those omitted are the sixth 
to the eleventh, inclusive, of Jacobi. The hymn is at page 
189 of Haberkorn's Psalmodia Germanica (London, 1765). 

CCLXXxvii. — From the Hymn Book of the Society for Promoting 
Christian Knowledge. I have not ascertained the Author, or 
verified the text : but I believe the Hymn first appeared in the 
Protestant Episcopal Collection of Hymns (lSS2),a.i>iHf.n(ie(l to the 
version of the Psalms atthe end of the American Prayer-Book. 

ccLxxxviii. — The seven last out of fourteen stanzas. (Hymns and 
Sacred Poems by J. ^ C. Wesley: second edition: 1843: page 

ccLxxxix. — Seven out of eight stanzas. Montgomery's last stanza 
is omitted. 

ccxc. — From the late Rev. Edward Bickersteth's Christian 
Psalmody. The author, and the original text, unknown. 

ccxcii. — Crashaw's hymn is a translation from the Adoro te devote 
of Thomas Aquinas. It consists of fifty-six lines ; from which 
most of the lines of the present hymn are adopted, with more 
or less variation. The first abridgment (less varied than the 
present, and containing only six stanzas), was Hymn 18 in 
Austin's Offices; and was repeated, with the change of one or 
two words, by Hickes (Devotions ; 1706 ; page 210). The 
present text is that of Dorrington's variation from Austin : in 
whose Reformed Devotions it is Hymn 23. 

ccxciiT. — From the collection of the Rev. R. "Whittingham 
(Simpkiu and Marshall : fourth edition, 1843). I have not 
been able to trace the author, or the original text. 



ccxcv.— From the HjTnn-Book of the Society for Promoting 
Christian Knowledge. The author, and the original text, 

ccxcviii.— Ten out of twenty-eight stanzas ; from a poem entitle<i 
Jesits teaches to die; at page 80 of the fourtli volinne of Bishop 
Ken's works (London ; 1721). The stanzas omitted, are tJie 
first four ; the tentli to the eighteenth inclusive ; the twenty- 
second to the twenty-fifth inclusive ; and the twenty-eighth, 
cc— From the Church Forcli, (a periodical edited bv the Rev. 
W. J. E. Bennett, Vicar of Frome); No. 19, July 2, 1855, 
page 353. Hayes; 5, Lyall Place, Eaton Square.) 
cci.— Three out of forty-three stanzas. The poem (a translation 
from the Hymn of Pradentius, Circa cocequias clefuncti) is in 
Williams' Thoughts in Past Years (Rivingtons ; third edition, 
1843 ; page 296). The stanzas selected are at pages 304-5. 
cccii. — The last three stanzas of James Montgomery's, The Grave 
(Montgomery's Poetical Worls complete in one volume: Lone- 
man : i)age 261). They now constitute, I believe, jtart of the 
epitaph on the poet's tomb, 
cccviii. — Four out of five stanzas. The omitted stanza, a "Gloria," 

is Chandler's last, 
cccx. — Five out of six stanzas. The omitted stanza is Browne's 

last. (Browne's Hymns and Spiritual Songs, No. 203.) 
cccxi. — Eight out of nine stanzas. The omitted stanza is Herbert's 

cccxii. — In Mason's Songs of Praise (No. 19), this hymn ends as 
many of Mason's hymns do) with a half-stanza ; the general 
scheme of division being into stanzas of eight lines. The 
concluding half-stanza is omitted here, 
ccc'xvii. — This hjTun was first privately printed in 1833. It was 
afterwards' subdivided into three distinct hvmns, in the col- 
lection of the Rev. H. V. Elliott (the husband of the 
authoress); by whose kindness I have been enabled to re- 
unite, in this jdace, the parts so separated, 
cccxx. — From the late Rev. Edward Bickersteth's Christian 
Psalmody. I have not been able to discover the author, or 
the original text. It is sometimes eiToneously attributed to 
the Hon. & Rev. B. W. Noel. 
cccxxii. cccxxiv.— The text of both these is from the late Dr. 
Andrew Reed's collection. Mr. Hastings is an American 
author ; and, on comparing them with his ivriginal text, since 
the first edition of the present volume was published, they 
appear to be correctly given ; except that the refrain, " Re- 
turn, retui-n," in No. cccxxiv. is not in Mr. Hastings' book : 
(Hymns and Poems, New York, 1850.) 
cccxxiii. — I am indebted to Mr. Morris, of Worcester, for the 
communication of Mrs. Morris' volume, entitled. The Voice 
and the Reply (Worcester; Grainger), from which this hymn 
is taken, 
cccxxv.— From the twenty-ninth edition (published about 1829) of 
Dr. Rippon's Hynin-Book ; where it is attributed to Dr. 
K K 




Collyer. It is not in Dr. CoUyer's owti collection, of 1812 ; 
and I have not succeeded in tracing it beyond Dr. Rippon's 

cccxxvi. — By an American author, whose name I have not been 
able to ascertain. It was communicated by liim to Miss 
Elliott, the authoress of the h\nnn by which it was sug- 
gested, "Just as I am," &c. (No. cxlvii. of this vohime), and 
the text (which I have not had the means of verifying), is 
from a small printed tract, without date, placed in my hands 
by a friend. 

cccxxix.— This was kindly communicated to me in manuscript, by 
the author, Robert Smith, Esq. of Holloway. 

cccxxxv. — Thirteen out of sixteen stanzas, from Hymns and Sacrzd 
Poems, by Ciiarles Wesley ; vol. i. p. 40 (Farley, Bristol ; 
second edition, 1755). 

cccxxxvii. — The hjTun from which these eight stanzas are taken, 
was first published in twenty-two stanzas in Spiritual Songs 
by J. and C. IVcsley (vol. i. p. 224, fourth edition, 1743). 
Afterwards in the seventeenth edition (Pine, Bristol, 1773 ; 
p. 30) it was reduced to sixteen stanzas. In both it begins, 
"And wilt Thou yet be found." 

cccxLix.— -Miss Elliott's name is now (through the kindness of her 
brother, the Rev. H. V. Elliott, in obtaining for me her per- 
mission) first made public, as the authoress of this hymn. 
Through some accidental error it is ascribed in the Rev. 
H. V. Elliott's Collection to Wesley; and the same mistake 
has been transferred to Ryle's Spirihial Songs, Bourchler's 
Solace in Sickness and Sorrow, and probably other books. 

cccLi. — Six out of seven stanzas (Hymens and Sacred Poems, vol. ii. 
p. 146 ; second edition, 1743). Weslej^'s last stanza is 
omitted; and a change of arrangement, which the Wesleys 
tliemselves sanctioned in the Hymn Book for Methodists, is 
ailopted, by placing as last of the six the stanza which is 
second in the original text. 

cccLvi. — Five out of six stanzas. Browne's last is omitted. 

cccEviii. — Five out of eight stanzas. Those omitted are Mr. 
Massie's third, fourth, and seventh. (From Martin Luther's 
Spiritual Songs; translated by E. Massle, Esq. of Eccleston: 
Hatchard, 1854.) 

cccLXiu. — From the original, as printed, with music, by the late 
Baron Bunsen, and communicated to me by a friend. 

cccLxiv. — In most of the editions of Kelly's hj-mns (Including that 
of 1836), this is a hymn of ten stanzas ; of wlilch the fifth, 
sixth, seventh, and tenth, are here omitted. In the edition 
of 1812, it was reduced by the author himself to six stanzas ; 
being (except the last), the same with the present text. The 
last stanza of that edition was unequal to the rest ; and was 
omitted by the author in aU the later editions. 

cccLxviii. — From Nugce Sacrce; or, Psalms and Hymns and Spiritual 
Songs (Hatchard, 1825). 

Notes. 499 


cccLxx. — The seven last of twenty stanzas ; from Erskine's Gosfd 
Sonnets (twtntietli edition : Berwick: Phorson; 1788: page 

cccLxxv. — Tfiis is No. 47 in Hymns hy R. C. Chapman (London : 
Jolm R. Biitenian, 1, Ivy Lane). This edition, which is with- 
out date, was published in 1352. The same hymn, in a slightly 
different form, had appeared in the earlier edition of the 
Author's hymns, x>ublished in 1837 (John F. Shaw, Southamp- 
ton Row, Russell Square). 

cccLXXvi. — (From Lyte's Poems, cldejly Religious ; i)age 41). Tliis 
hymn had been in circulation several years belore the pub- 
lication of that volume, and will be found in the Christian 
Rsabnist (IS2J), and hi Hymns fur I'rivute Devotion, Selected 
and Original (Hatchard, 1827). It has sometimes been 
erroneously attributed to Miss GrenfeU.' 

(.ccLXXxi. cccLxxxii.— I am indebted for the communication of the 
volumes from which tliese two pieces are taken (Songs for 
the Suffering; and The Family Hymnal ; London: Hamilton, 
Adams, & Co.), to the kindness of the author, the Rev. 
Thomas Davis, Incumbent of Ruundhay, Yorkshire. 

ccCLXXxvii. — Five out of nine stanzas (from Watts' Hymn 59, of 
Book II). The stanzas omitted are the first, second, lifth, 
and sixth. 

cocxc. —Five out of six stanzas. The omitted stanza is the fourth 
of Watts. 

cccxcii.— This has been made up by putting together two stanzas 
taken -from No. 23 (with some slight variation), and two 
otliers taken (without variation) from No. 28 of Mason's 
Songs of Praise. Lady Huntingdon added two stanzas more 
from the latter hymn, which are here omitted. 

COCCI. — Six out of eight stanzas. The stanzas omitted are Kelly's 
second and third. 

coccii.— This hymn (in five stanzas, of which the fourth is here 
omitted) appears in the second series of Sacred Poetry (Edin- 
burgh: Oliphaut), first published about 1835. Dr. Bonar 
spoke of it to Mr. Sedgwick as one which he remembered 
as early as 1825. In the Chelsea Collection (Psalms and 
Hymns for Puhlic Worship: Seeleys ; second edition; 1853) 
it bears the name of "Newton ; " but I have not been able to 
trace the true author. John Newton's it certainly is not. 

cccciii.— From Hymns and Anthevis (Fox, Paternoster Row); 
a volume edited by Mr. William Johnson Fox; to whom this 
hymn was given for iiublication by ihe authoress. 

CCCCix. — From Thoughts for Thoughtful Hours (Nelson, Edinburgli, 
1859). " H. L. L." is the signature of the translators of Hymns 
from the Land of Luther. 

K K 2 

500 Notes. 


I.— I am indebted to the Rev. J. Keble for permission, obtained 
through him, to introduce this and the other additional 
Hymns of the late Professor Joseph Anstiee. The two 
numbered cclxxiii. and cccxxvii. I had previously taken 
from the Child's Christian Year; (in which the additional 
Hymn, No. 24, will also be found.) The collected hjanns of 
the author have never been made public, though they were 
privately printed, after his death, in 1836. 

V. — The first four out of five stanzas. 

VII. — From Bishop Mant's Holydays of the Chnrch, &c. vol. i. p. 

viii. — This is the original translation of Mr. Williams (omitting the 
last twelve lines), of which Hymn lxi. is a variation. 

XI. — The t«xt is that of the 58th Scotch Paraphrase ; and, 
although differing from that given in Logan's works, may be 
regarded as altei'ed bj' himself, or with his authority. 
XII.— Five out of six stanzas (Olney Hymns, Book I. No. 53). 

XV.— This is No. 856 in Dr. C.ollyer's Hyran-Book of 1812. Dr. 
Collyer, in a note, states, that he is himself the author of the 
last three stanzas, having never seen more than the first, 
which (following a popular error) he assumes to be a trans- 
lation from Luther, by whose name it is usually called, and 
to one of whose tunes' it is set and sung. The original German 
hymn, however, on which this is founded (beginning, "£s ist 
geivisslich an der Zeii,") is not by Luther, but by Benjamin 
Ringwald. I have not been able to discover the author of the 
first English stanza. 

XVI. XVIII. — These two popular hymns constitute parts of Dr.Neale's 
translation of The Rhythm of Bernard de Morlaia\ Monk of 
Cluny, on the Celestial Country. (London : J. T. Hayes, 1862.) 
The entire translation is very long (442 lines). The Latin 
original begins with the line, 

"■'Hora novissima, tempora pessima sunt, vigilernus." 

XXII. XXX. — From Hymns from the Gospel of the Day for each Sun- 
day and the Festivals of our Lord, by the Rev. J. E. Bode. 
(Oxford and London : J. H. & J. Parker, 1860.) 

XXVII. — I am indebted for this to the kindness of the translator. 

XXXI. — The fii-st four out of five stanzas. {Olney Hymns, Book I. 
No. 50. 

XXXIV. — I am indebted for this to the author. 


Adams, Sarah Flower (1840) cccciii 

Addisox, Joseph (172S) xiii, ci.xxiif, ccxvi, a 23 

Alexander, Cecil Frances (1853 — 1858) cxlviii, clxiii 

Alford, Henry (1845) xcii, cxxx, cclxxiv, cclxxxiii, cr;cix 

Anstice, Joseph (1830) cclxxjii, cccxxvii, a 1, a 11, a 13, a 25 

AuBER, Harriett (1829) xl 

Austin, John (1668) xxvi, lxx, clxxxix, ccxni, ccci.xvii 

Baker, Sir Henry (1857—1861) clxii, cxcii, cclxx 

Lakkwell, John (1760) lxxi 

Ball, William (1825) (XClxviii 

Barbauld, Anna Lfetitia (1773) Lviii, cxxxvin, cclXxt, a 35 

Bathurst, William Hiiey (1831) lvj, cxi, clxxv, clxXxiv, ccxci 

Baxter, Richard (1G81) cxxxxvi 

Beddome, Benjamin [1818] cccxlii 

Berridge, John (1785) cxiii, c;c 

BiCKERSTETH, Edwanl Heniy (1858) ccxxii 

Bode, John Ernest (1860) a 22, a 30. 

BoNAR, Horatius (1856) cxcvii, cccxxxiii, ccclxix, ccclxxiv 

A 28 
Bowdler, John (1814) xxn, ccxxxiv 
BowLY, Mary (1847) ccccviii 
Browne, Simon (1720) xcvi, cclvi, cccx, ccclvi 
Browne, T. B. (1844) xxv 
Bruce, Michael (1768) ijcxxi 
Burns, James D. (1856) cccxiii 
Byrom, John (1773) cccxxxviii 

Cameron, William (1770) cxiv 

Cawood, John (1816) a 19 

Cennick, John (1742) xc, cxxvr, ccclii 

Chandler, John (1837) lxi, cxxviii, cxxxix, ccli, cccviii 

Chapman, Robert C. (1837) cccLXXV 

CoNDER, Josiali (1856) lxxvi, lxxxviii, ccix 

CoLLVER, William Ben^'o [1829J cccxxv, a 14. 

Cotterill. Thomas [1810J v 

CowpER, William (1779) cv, cxxxvi, cxLiii, cxc, ccuxlvi, 

A 31 

Crashaw, Richard (1646) ccxcii 
Crossman, Samuel (1664) cix, cliii 
Cox, Frances Elizabeth (1S41) cccxxxii 

Davis, Thomas (1850, 1860) ccclxxxi, ccclx.vxii, a 34 
Darling, Tliomas(lS57) vii 
Denny, Sir Edward (1«4«) clxxvi 

503 List of Authors. 

Dix, William Chatterton (1S61) xli 

Doddridge, Philip (1755) xlti, cxviii, cxxix, cxxxi, cltx, 


DoKRiNGTON, Tlieophilus (16S6) ccxcii 
DowNToN, Hemy (1S51) ccLxxvi, cclxxix 
Drexxax, "William (1815) cxxxvii 
Dysox, Charles (1816) ccclix 

Edmestox, James (1820) ccxxvii, cccxcvi 

Elliott, Charlotte (183C) cxlvii, cxciii, cccxxviir, cccxlix, 


Elliott, Julia Anne (1833) cccxvii 
Erskine, Kalph (1734) ccclxx 

Faxch, James (1791) lxxiii 
Flowerdew, Anne (ISll) cclxviti 
Ford, James (1856) ccliit, cclxvi 

Gibbons, Thomas (1784) xvi, cccxciv 
GiSBORXE, Thomas (1803) cxix 

Grant, Sir Robert (1806-1839) xxi, lxviit, cvii, cccxcvm 
Gray, A. (1851) lxii 
Grigg, Joseph (1765) cccxxx 
Grixfield, Thomas (1836)xxxii, ccviii, ccxcvii 
GuRNEY, John Hampden (1851) xviii, cxlix, ccvi, cclxxii. 
A 20 

Hammoxd, William (1745) xcv, cxxvii, ccclxxiii 

Hart, Joseph (1759) xcviii 

Hastings, Thomas [1842] cccxxii, cccxxiv 

Havergal, William Henry (1833) lxxix 

Haweis, Thomas (1792) cc'xxxix 

Heber, Bishop Reginald (1811-1827) i, lxxxiv, lxxxvii, cxvit, 

cxli, clxxvti, ccxiv, ccxxv, coxxvi, ccxlii, cclxi, cccv, 

cccxxxi, ccclxt, a 2, a 10 
Herbert, Algernon [1839] ccclxiti 
Herbert, George (1632) xx, cccxi 
Hill, Rowland (1783—1796) cxii, clii 
How, William Walsham (1860) l, ccijcxxvi 
Hunt, John (1853) x 

Huntingdon, Selina, Countess of (1780) cccxcii 
Hurn, William (1813) lxxxvi, cm 

Irons, William Josiah (1853) cxcvi 

Jacobi, John Christian (1722) c, cclxxxv 

Keble, John (1827—1857) xiv, xxxi, xciii, ccxlviii, cclix, 

CCLXIX, ccxcix 
Kelly, Thomas (1804—1836) xxxv, xliij, xlv, xltx, lxxviii, 


Ken, Bishop Thomas (1700—1721), ccxlvi, cclvii, cct.xv, 


Kirke-White, Henrj- (1803—1806) cxxii, cclviii 

Logan, John (1770) ccxiii, a 9 
Lynch, Thomas Toke (1855) ecu 

List of Authors. 503 

Lyte, Henrj- Fraiicis (1833—1847) xi. xxni, xxiv, liii, cxxxii, 
CLXXXIII, cLxxxvni, ccxxiii, ccxxxv, ccxxxv, CCXXXVII, 

Madan, Martin (1760) xc, cxxvii 

Maitlan'D, Fannv Fuller (1827) cxxii 

Mant, Bishoi) Richard (1831—1837) ii, Lxix, cr, cciii, a 7 

Mardlkv, Jolin (156-2), ccxxvi 

Marriott, John (1816) clxxx 

Mason, John (16S3) civ, ccvi, cccxn, cccxcii 

Massie, Richard (1S5-1) ccclviii 

Medley, Samuel (17S9— 1800) cli, cccxl 

MiuDLETON, Bisliop Thomas Faushaw [1831] ccxxiv 

Miles, Susan L. (1S40] lxvi 

Millard, James Klwin (1848) iv 

MiLMAN, Henrv Hart (1822—1827) ccxxxviiT, cccvi, a 3, a 4 

MoNSELL, John S. B. (1837—1850) ccxxxxi, ccclxxxix 

Montgomery, James (1S03— 1853) iii. xxxvi, lxxx, xcix, cxi, 


Moore, Henrv [ISOG] ccclxii 
Morris, Eliza Fanny [1858] cccxxiii 
Morrison, John (1770) xxxix, cccxi.iv 

Xeale, John Mason (1851—1854) xxix, lxiv, Cf.Liv, a 16, a 18, 

Newman, John Henry (1833) cccciv 

Newton, John (1779) xlvit, lv, lxxvit, cxvi, cxxv, 


Noel, Baptist Wriothesley (1841) ccclxxix 

Olivers, Thomas (1757—1772) xci, ccccxi 
Osler, Edward (1856) ccxliv, ccxciv, cclxxxii 

Palgrave, Francis Turner (1862) ccxxix, cclii 
Palmer, Ray [1840] clxxxii.ccxcvi 
Parr, Harriett (1856) cclx 

Quarles, John (1654) vn 

Reed, Andrew (1842) clxvii 

RicKARDS, .Samuel (1825) xxxvii 

Russell, Arthur Tozer (1851) lxvii, ccxxvm, cclxxv, ccclv 

Ryland, John (1777) ccx, ccxi 

Seagrave, Robert (1748) CLXV 

Sears, Edmund H. [ISCO] xxxvm 

Scott, Robert Allan (1830) cijucii 

Scott, Sir Walter (ISOr.) a 15 

Skelton, Philip (1784) xxvui 

Smith, Robert (lS'"-2) cccxxix 

Steele, Anne (1760) clx, cxcv, cccxxxvi, cccxli 

Swain, Joseph (1792) cxxxiv 

Tate, Nahum (1703) xxxm 

Taylor, Bishop Jeremy (1653) clxxiv 

ToKK, Emma(I>-51) i.xv 

504 List of Authors. 

ToMALiN, James Bullivant [1860] a 27 

ToPLADY, Augustus Moutague (1709—1777) c, cxlv, clvi, cci, 


Turner, Daniel (1791) lxxiii 

Waring, Anna Lsetitia (1850—1860) cxcviii 

Waring, Samuel Miller (1S27) ccxliii 

Watts, Isaac (1709— 1720) vi, viii, ix, xri, xv, xvii, xliv, xlviit, 

CCJCLXXXVII, cccxc, a 5, A 6 

Wesley, Charles(1739— 1762) viii, xxxiv, xlvi, liv, lix, lxxv, 


Wesley, John (1739— 1743) lxx, cxxxv, ccxxx, CGCXLvrii, 

White, Hem-y Kirke (see Kivke White) 

Williams, Isaac (1838-1842) xix, xxx, lxi, ccci, ccclsxx, a 8 
Williams, William (1759—1774) Lt, ccxxxi, ccxxxii 
Wilson, Mrs. Daniel (1S30) cxciv 
WiNKwoRTH, Catherine (1858) cccxcix 
Wither, George (1641) xxvii, ccxlix, cclv, cclxxxiv 
Wordsworth, William (1834) a 24 

Anonymous, from miscellaneous Collections, lx, cx, cl, 
CCV, CCLXXXVII, ccxc, ccxciii, ccxcv, ccc, cccxx, CCCXXVJ, 

Ditto, " F. B. P." [1616] cviii 

Ditto, "H. L. L." [1859] ccccix 

Ditto, "M. G. T." (1831) lvii 

Ditto, from Ordination Ser\dce [1662] xciv 



Abide with iiic ! fast tills the even-tide 432 

Accept, my God, my evening song 270 

Again the Lord of Life and Light 61 

All praise to Him wlio dwells in bliss 278 

All praise to thee, my God, this night 271 

All wondering on the desert ground 473 

Almighty God, Thy piercing eye 235 

Almighty God, Tliy word is cast 470 

And can it be, that I should gain 303 

And have 1 measured half my days 355 

And shall I sit alone 309 

Another year has tied ; renew 294 

A poor wayfaring man of grief 385 

Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat 234 

As o'er the past my .memory strays 238 

A soldiei-'s course, from battles won 134 

As witli gladness men of old 46 

A thousand years have fleeted 3G1 

Awake, and sing the song 142 

Awake, my soul, and with the sun 257 

Awake, my soul, awake to prayer 283 

Awake, my soul, lift up thine eyes 485 

Awake, ye saints, and raise your eyes 296 

Away with sorrow's sigh 32 

Before Jehovah's awful throne 7 

Behold ! a Strangei-'s at the doors 348 

Behold, tlie morning sun 118 

Beliold ! the Mountain of the Lord 91 

Behold tlie sun, that secm'd but now 269 

Beneath Thy cruss I lay me down 55 

Beyond the glittering starry globe 79 

Blest are the huiuble souls that see 220 

Blest be Tky love, dear Lord 205 

Blow ye the trumpet, blow 57 

Bound upon tli' accursed tree 454 

Brief life is here our portion 469 

Brightest aii<l best (jf the sons of the morning 452 

Bright was the guiding star that led 46 

Brother, thou art gone before ns ; and thy saintly sold is flown 322 

By faith in Christ 1 walk with God 410 

Calm me, my God, and keep me calm 395 

Cliild of sin and sorrow 341 

Cliildren of the Heavenly King 141 

Christ is our corner-stone 324 

Christ, niy hidden Life, ai)pear 382 

Christ the Lord is risen to-day 62 

Christ, whose glory fills th.- skies 263 

Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire 106 

Come, Holy Spirit, come 110 

Come, Holy ISpirit, heavenly Duve 108 

5o6 Index of First Lines. 


Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove 109 

Come, let us join our cheerful songs 45(5 

Come, let us join our friends above 153 

Come, let us to the Lord our God 364 

Come, my soul, thy suit prepare 19S 

Come, O come ! in pious lays 27 

Come, O thou Traveller unknown 365 

Come, take my yoke, the Saviour said 347 

Come, we that love the Lord 138 

Come, ye thankful people, come 292 

Commit thou all thy griefs 433 

Compared with Christ, in all beside 379 

Day of anger, that dread Day 102 

Dearest of names, our Lord and King 163 

Deathless principle, arise 169 

Early, my God, without delay 417 

Earth to earth, and dust to dust 162 

Ere another Sabbath's close 337 

Eternal Beam of Light Divine 472 

Eternal God, of beings First 381 

Eternal source of every jov 286 

Exalted high at God's right hand 127 

Fain would my thoughts fly up to Thee 393 

Far from my heavenly home 391 

Far from these narrow scenes of night 173 

Far from the world, Lord, I flee 405 

Father, by Thy love and power 476 

Father, I know that all my life 213 

Father of Love, our Guide and Friend 211 

Fearless, calm, and strong in love 485 

Fierce passions discompose the mind 397 

For ever with the Lord 440 

Forth from the dark and stormy sky 233 

Forth in Thy Name, O Lord, I go 201 

For mercies, countless as the sands 482 

For Thy mercy and Thy grace 297 

Fountain of mercy ! God of love 286 

Friend after friend departs 177 

From all that dwell below the skies 254 

From Egj'pt lately come 139 

From Greenland's icy mountains 93 

Full of weakness and of sin 114 

Glorious things of Thee are spoken 131 

God eternal. Lord of all 3 

God is our Refuge, tried and proved 247 

God moves in a mj-sterious way 417 

God of mercy, throned on high 308 

God of mv salvation, hear 159 

Godofthat glorious gift of grace 299 

God of the morning, at whose voice ! 259 

God, that madest earth and heaven 277 

Go up; go up, my heart 400 

Go, worship at Emanuel's feet 377 

Gracious Spirit, dwell with me 218 

Great God, what do I see and her.r 4(35 

Great God, Wliose universal sway 93 

Guide me, Thou great Jehovah 243 

/;/ dex of Fi) st L in es. 507 


Hail, thou bright and sacred mom 3M t 

Hail, Thou once despised Jesus 7i'' 

Hail to the Lord's Anointed Kit 

Happy soul! thy days are ended 171 

Happy the man, whose hopes rely 11 

Hark ! how all the welkin rings ::iS 

Hark, my soul, how everj' thing 25 

Hark, my soul ! it is the Lord 3GS 

Hark, the glad sound ! the Saviour conies 47 

Hark, 'tis a martial sound ! 135 

Harp, awake ! tell out the story 295 

Haste, traveller, haste ! the night comes on 343 

He, Who on earth as man was known SO 

Hear, gracious God ! a sinner's cry 3'31 

Hear, gracious God ! my humble moan 3G2 

Hear my prayer, O heavenly Father 27G 

Heavenly Father, to Whose eye 224 

Here, O my Lord, I see Thee face to face 47lJ 

Holy Ghost, dispel our sadness 112 

Holy, holy, lioly, Lord 2 

Holy, holy, holy. Lord God Almighty 1 

Holy Spirit, gently come 107 

Holy Spirit, in my breast 113 

Hosanna ! raise the pealing hymn 88 

Hosanna to the Living Lord ! 154 

How blest the sacred tie that binds 151 

How briglit these glorious spirits shine \'l'.'* 

How gentle God's commands 22s 

How rich Thy favours, God of grace 145 

How sweet the Name of Jesus sounds 51 

How vast the treasure we possess 409 

I give immortal praise 5 

I heard the voice of Jesus say 353 

I praised the earth, in beauty seen 3S7 

I saw, and lo ! a countless throng 444 

I sing th' almighty power of God 1(> 

In evil long I took delight 354 

In memory of the Saviour's love 311 

Interval of grateful shade 27S 

In token that thou shalt not fear 30O 

It came upon the midnight clear 43 

Jerusalem, my happy home 1 23 

Jerusalem, my happy home 125 

Jerusalem the golden 4f37 

Jesu ! behold, the Wise from far 74 

Jesu ! guide our way 241 

Jesu, lover of my soul 25 J 

Jesu, my strength, my hope 374 

Jesu, Thou art my Righteousness 157 

Jesu ! who for my transgression 380 

Jesus, cast a look on me 215 

Jesus Christ is risen to-day ti4 

Jesus, I my cross have taken 402 

Jesns ! lead us with Thy power 244 

Jesus, my all, to Heaven is gone 375 

Jesus shall reign where'er the sun 92 

Jesus, the Shepherd of the sheep 230 

5o8 Index of First Lines. 


Jesus, thou Joy of loving hearts 313 

Jesus, Thy Church Avith longing eyes 191 

Jesus, when near th' expected hour 315 

Jesus, where'er Thy people meet .... 150 

Join all the glorious names 77 

Joy to the world, the Lord is come 49 

Just as I am, without one plea 160 

Just as thou art, without one trace 845 

Lamb of God, I look to Thee 306 

Lead, kindly Light, amid th' encircling gloom 431 

Lead us, heavenly Father, lead ns 240 

Let all the world in every corner sing 19 

Let all the world rejoice 9 

Let Jacob to his Maker sing 419 

Let me be with Thee where Thou art 398 

Light of the lonely pilgrim's heart 192 

Lo ! God is here ! Let us adore 149 

Lo ! He comes ! let all adore Him 48 

Lo ! He conies, with clouds descending 99 

Lo ! He comes with clouds descending 100 

Lo ! the day the Lord hath made 456 

Long did 1 toil, and knew no earthly rest 412 

Lord, as to Thy dear cross we flee . 471 

Lord ! come away 191 

Lord God of morning and of night 266 

Lord God the Holy Ghost Ill 

Lord. I feel a carnal mind 216 

Lord, in the day Thou art about 222 

Lord, in Thy Name Thy servants plead . . , 287 

Lord Jesu, when we stand afar 54 

Lord, may the inward grace abound 299 

Lord of hosts ! to Thee we raise 323 

Lord of mercy and of might 461 

Lord of my life, whose tender care 222 

Lord of the harvest ! once again 292 

Lord of the harvest ! Thee Ave hail 291 

Lord of the Sabbath ! hear our vows 335 

Lord of the Avorlds above 147 

Lord, thou hast form'd mine eveiy part 188 

Lord, Avhen before Thy throne we meet 312 

Lord, when I lift my voice to Thee . . , 201 

Mercy alone can meet my case 235 

Morning lifts her deAvy veil 459 

Much in sorroAV, oft in Avoe 137 

Mu.-)t friends and kindred droo^j and die 319 

My faith looks up to Thee 199 

My God and Father, Avhile I stray 208 

My God, and is Thy Table spread 480 

My God, my King, Thy various praise 1S7 

My God, now I from sleep awake 281 

My God, the Spring of all my joys 404 

My life's a shade, my days 166 

My Lord, my love was crucified 329 

My Shepherd Avill supply my need 232 

My soul, amid this stormy world 400 

My soul, repeat His praise , . 155 

My spirit longeth for Thee 359 

Index of First Lines. 509 


My spirit on Thy care 204 

My trust is in the Lord 246 

Nearer, my God, to Tliee 430 

Not all the blood of beasts 455 

Not unto us, Almighty Lord 10 

Now, gracious Lord, Tliine arm reveal 477 

Now I have found the ground wherein 370 

Now is the hour of darkness past S3 

Now it belongs not to my care 202 

Now let our mourning hearts revive 320 

Now let us join with liearts and tongues 58 

Now may He, who from the dead 252 

Now morning lifts her dewy veil 64 

Now to Him, who loved us, gave us 253 

O day most calm, most bright 327 

O for a closer wallc with God 415 

O for an heart to praise my God 206 

O for a thousand tongues to sing 51 

O God of Bethel, by whose hand 228 

O God, Thou art my God alone 186 

O God, Thy grace and blessing give 163 

O God. unseen, yet ever near 311 

O happy saints, wlio dwell in light 128 

O happy soul, that lives on high 392 

O Holy Saviour, Friend unseen 372 

O Holy Lord, content to live 304 

O house of Jacob, come 95 

O how kindly hast Thou led me 224 

O Israel, to thy tents repair 164 

O .lesu, Lord of heavenly grace 263 

O Jesus, Saviour of the lost 236 

O King of earth, and aij', qnd sea., 229 

O King of kings. Viofore whose throne 6 

O Lamp of Life ! that on the bloody Cross 385 

O Lord, another day is flown 273 

O Lord, how good, how great art Thou 56 

O Lord, how joyful' t is to see 152 

O Lord, how "little do we know 399 

O Lord, I would delight in Thee 227 

O Lord, my best desire fiilfil 205 

O Lord, our languid souls insi>ire 483 

O Lord, Thy heavenly grace impart 209 

O Lord, turn not Thy face away 239 

O most merciful 253 

O Saviour! is Thy promise fled 193 

O Saviour, may we never rest 59 

O send me down a draught of love 396 

O Spirit of the living God 194 

that my load of sin were gone 363 

O Thou, from whom all goodness flows 250 

O Thou, the contrite siiniers' Friend 371 

O Thoxi, to whose all-searchiiig sight 242 

O Thou, who camest from above 203 

O Tliou, whose tender mercy hears 357 

O time of tranquil joy and holy feeling 330 

O timely happy, timely wise 200 

O worship the King 20 

5 1 o Ijidex of First L incs. 

Of Thy love some gracious tokeu 338 

O help us, Lord ! each hour of need 249 

Oh what, if we are Christ's 207 

On God the race of man depends 14 

On the mountain's top appearing 94 

One there is, above all others 463 

Our God, our help in ages past 181 

Our life is but an idle play 388 

Our praise Thou need'st not ; but Thj' love 19 

Palms of glorj-, raiment bright 130 

Pleasant are Thy courts above 146 

Plunged in a gulf of darlc despair 56 

Poor child of sin and woe 342 

Pour out Thy Spirit from on high 484 

Praise, my soul, the King of heaven 23 

Praise, O praise our God and King 288 

Praise the Lord, His glories show 24 

Praise the Lord of Heaven, praise Him in the height .... 25 

Praise to God, immortal praise 289 

Praise to the radiant Source of bliss 143 

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire 185 

Quiet, Lord, my froward heart 214 

Receive him. Earth, unto thine harbouring shrine 318 

Redeem'd from guilt, redeem'd from fears 200 

Rejoice, the Lord is King S3 

Rejoice, though storms assail thee 429 

Rest, weary soul 439 

Return, O wanderer, to thy home 343 

Ride on, ride on in majesty 453 

Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings 178 

Rock of Ages, cleft for me 158 

Round the Lord in glory seated .... 2 

Salvation ! oh ! the joyful sound 67 

Saviour, I lift my trembling eyes 60 

Sa^^our, when in dust to Thee 71 

Saviour, who didst from Hea^•'n come down 478 

Saviour, who, exalted high 73 

Saviour, who Thy flock art feeding 305 

See, the ransomed millions stand 97 

Shall I fear, O Earth, thy bosom 409 

Shepherd of Israel, from above S09 

Shine on our souls, eternal God 223 

Since Thou liast added now, O God 262 

Sing to the Lord, our might 332 

Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice 22 

Sleep well, my dear ; sleep safe and free £03 

Sometimes a light surprises 411 

Songs of praise the angels sang 468 

Source of good, whose power controls 3S4 

Sovereign Ruler of the skies 225 

Speed Thy servants. Saviour, speed them 195 

Spirit ! leave thine house of clay 168 

Star of morn and even £41 

Sun of my soul. Thou Saviour dear 274 

Sleep, baby, sleep ! what ails my dear 301 

Sweet is the Spirit's strain . . ' 345 

Index of First Lines. 5 1 1 


Sweet is tlie work, my God, iny Kiug 331 

Sweet place, sweet place aloue 122 

That day of wrath, that dreadful day 460 

The child leans on its parent's breast 406 

The billows swell, the winds are high 420 

The day, O Lord, is spent 269 

The day of rest once more comes round 333 

The foe behind, the deep before 67 

The God of Abraham praise 441 

The Head that once was crown'd with thorns 87 

The heaven of lieavens cannot contain 151 

The Lord is King! lift up your voice 85 

The Lord Jehovah reigns 8 

The Lor.l my ]>asture shall prepare 231 

The Lord my Shei:>herd is 233 

The Lord of Might from Sinai's brow 96 

The lovely form of God's own Church 325 

The race that long in darkness pined 45 

The roseate hues of early dawn 1^^ 

The scene around me disappears 41 

The Son of God goes forth to war 132 

The Son of God! the Lord of life 66 

Tlie spacious firmament on high I7 

The spring-tide hour 4x^ 

The starry firmament on high 1}^ 

The strain u])raise of joy and praise ^"^^ 

The voice tliat breathed o'er Eden •''1' 

The waves of trouble, how they rise 1^2 

Tlie winds were howling o'er the deep ^J'.J 

The world can neither give nor take 41S 

Thee we adore, eternal Lord 4 

There is a blessed Home 1'^ 

There is a book, who runs may read ^13 

There is a calm for those who weep ^19 

There is a dwelling-place above -J-J 

There is a fountain fill'd with blood }^>y_ 

There is a land of pure delight J'^ 

There is a pure and peaceful Avave "•'4 

There is a River, deep and broad 11-^ 

Tliere is a safe and secret idace -4^ 

Tliere is a Stream, which issues forth J 16 

There is an hour, when I must part 1^^ 

There's not a bird, with lonely nest 40o 

Tliev talk'd of Jesus, as they went ,' ■," ' " .,f 

Thou art gone to the grave : but we will not deplore thee . . ^iv 

Tliou art gone up on high ^^ 

Thou God of Love ! beneath thy sheltering wings 31b 

Thou, great Creator, art possest 143 

Thou Judge of quick and dead •^' 

Thou the cup of death didst drain •*2'^ 

Thou, who didst stoop below !^Y 

Tliou, who hast call'd us by Thy word 4bl 

Thou, Whose Almighty word 19< 

Though, by sorrows overtaken ^^^ 

Though rude winds usher thee, sweet day 41 

Through the day Thy love hath spared us -77 

Through the love of God our Saviour 43S 

Thus saith God of His Anointed ^^ 

512 Index of First Lines. 

Tliy goodness, Lord, onr souls confess 16 

Thy way, not mine, Lord 212 

'Tis come, the time so oft foretold 86 

'Tis Heaven begun below 148 

To God, ye choir, above, begin 28 

To Heaven I hft mine eye 246 

To Him, who for oiu- sins was slain 71 

To-morrow, Lord, is Thine 298 

To Thee, my God, whose Presence fills 420 

To Thy temple I repair 336 

Up to the hills I lift mine eyes 245 

Up to the throne of God is borne 475 

We seek a rest beyond the skies 180 

We sing His love. Who once was slain 165 

We sing the praise of Him Who died 53 

Weary of wandering from my God '359 

Welcome, sweet day, of days the best 326 

We'll sing, in spite of scorn 40 

We're bound for yonder land 428 

We've no abiding city here 390 

Wliat are these in bright array 126 

What sudden blaze of song 34 

Whate'er my God ordains is right 424 

When all Thy mercies, O my God 189 

When at mid-day my task I ply 266 

When at Thy footstool. Lord, I bend 237 

When came in flesh th' Incarnate Word 464 

Wlien Christ the Lord would come on earth 144 

When Christ, with all His graces crown'd 414 

When gathering crowds around I view 423 

When God of old came down from Heaven 104 

When languor and disease invade 426 

When I survey life's varied scene 210 

When I survey the wondrous cross 53 

When Israel, hv Divine command 140 

When Jesus left His Father's throne 307 

When rising from the bed of death 473 

When shall Thy love constrain 358 

When Thou, O Lord, in flesh wert drest 451 

When wounded sore the stricken heart 161 

Where liigh the heavenly Temple stands 460 

While shepherds watched their flocks by night 37 

While with ceaseless course the sun 296 

Why comes this fragrance on the summer breeze 407 

Why do we mourn departing friends 167 

Why should I fear the darkest hour 422 

Why should I, in vain repining 421 

With all the powers my poor soul hath 310 

With tearful eyes I look around 346 

Worship, honour, glory, blessing 253 

Ye golden lamps of heaA^en, farewell 172 

Ye servants of the Lord 133 

Ye sons of earth, prepare the plough 117 

Yes, God is good ; in earth and sky 18 

Your harps, ye trembling saints 435 

R. Clay, Son, 4 Taylor, Printers, London. 














. A " 'x A /\ _ /^ /^