Songs of Salvation, Praise, Worship

This is the July 4th Independence Day for the United States of America, “commemorating the adoption of the Declaration of Independence 241 years ago on July 4, 1776. The Continental Congress declared that the thirteen American colonies regarded themselves as a new nation, the United States of America, and were no longer part of the British Empire. The Congress actually voted to declare independence two days earlier, on July 2.”   As a nation and people we look back 2 1/2 centuries to consider what we are and how we became such. Each us reflect or think about our own place in this larger family of Americans, and as with all families, the good and bad, the bitter and the sweet, and the best or worst we have been or are.
It is also now 40 years to date that I was on my way to South America for church and gospel missions. But San Diego became my new home, and soon I was married and with a family rooted here. It was here I met my wife and some who are still very much part of our lives. I thought to share some patriotic songs which have found there way into the churches and the hearts of Christians throughout America, but decided to wait till after the holiday to do so. Instead I’ll share some hymns and songs from one those Christians I met in San Diego, and who has become very dear to me in Christ. Of the many songs he has composed these he sent me to share in my collections of Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs.

John P. Hillshafer:

I have chosen a few for your consideration. The first three are certainly from our first contacts and growth in fellowship during the late 70’s and early 80’s.

1. The Lion is the Lamb

On the battleground the naked figure stands
in the shadow of all that death demands.
Look! He conquers without pleading His own case!
Because He came as the One who takes my (our) place!
Now He comes this great and mighty One!
The True soldier that has never shot a gun….
and, yet, He captures the hearts of many a man
without combat that is fought by hand to hand.
So see God’s wisdom that shows strength thru humility…
As He sets aside this proud man’s ability!
Then I see Jesus called the ‘Lion of the tribe’
Show true strength as the Lamb willing to die!
Behold! the Lion is the Lamb
Behold! the Lion is the Lamb
Behold! the Lion is the Lamb
Behold! the Lamb!
2. Jehovah is Salvation
Jehovah is salvation!
In this we now behold
The gracious proclamation
That prophets had foretold…
That God’s Word became a Man
That men with God can be!
This is salvation’s plan
That God Himself conceived!
Jehovah is salvation!
And Jesus is His name
Redeeming His creation
His Lordship to proclaim!
How God prepared His body
As the offering for sin.
That we may now come boldly
The Father’s favor win!
Jehovah is salvation!
To this, oh saints, awake!
The joy of our salvation
Restored each time we take
His body shared as bread
And the cup, His blood makes peace!
And where the saints are fed
All accusations cease!
Jehovah is salvation!
In Christ this is declared!
The Father’s revelation
This has Satan snared!
The foe’s fate surely sealed
Mankind’s place is restored…
Our life is now concealed
In Christ our risen Lord!
Jehovah is salvation!
Ascended to the throne!
There glory’s coronation
Belongs to Him alone!
Lord Jesus there you’re seated
At the Father’s own right hand!
In You man is completed…
And in You we shall stand!


3. One more day to see Your Mercy

One more day to see Your mercy
Made alive to voice Your praise!
One more breath for Your expression
With my mouth glad songs to raise!

Oh to this my dear Lord Jesus
Yes to this to be found true…
That Your life would mine replace
Made as faithful, Lord, as You!
That Your life would mine replace
Made as faithful, Lord, as You!

Gracious steadfast love our Father
Toward Your children You command…
In Your Son our dear Lord Jesus
Who for us met Your demand.


This fact more than I can fathom
HalleluJah! wise design…
Trading my unrighteous fervor
For Christ’s righteousness made mine!


This is now my only Sabbath…
To find sweetest rest in Him!
Sweetest Lord, my endless Sabbath!
Your own blood cleansed all my sin!



4. Groaning in Our Prayers

Creation, We, and Spirit
Groan in captivity…
Even so, come Lord Jesus!
The travailing harmony!
So weak and oft’ infirm we don’t know what to pray
Your Spirit overcomes our weakness to show us what to say!
Precious are Your words Lord Jesus! By Spirit make them mine,
That even the weakest prayer the Father can define!
Though muttered as faint and feeble, from earth be Spirit-driven!
And launch our humbled efforts into the Heaven of heavens!
From there the Father answers the Man who fills the breach!
The Christ our intercessor, thru Him, God’s heart we reach!
Receive the Holy Spirit that Christ our prayers fill,
Add the golden altar’s incense, to move along God’s will!
In Christ we see the vision our God has given Him…
We, too, now pray “Our Father”, Your Kingdom come and King!
Creation, We, and Spirit
Groan in captivity…
Even so, come Lord Jesus!
The travailing harmony!

5. Would my Heart

Would my heart this morning meet You
As this earth toward the Sun must face.
Here in mercies new to greet You
finding, Lord, Your shining grace!

Rays of sunshine brightly beaming
Mountain shadows flee the gaze!
Earthen vessels by His gleaming,
Shine in Christ Whom God has raised!

Stir me with deep, sincere affections
Blessed reminder each daybreak
That living hope by resurrection
Raised in us for Jesus’ sake!


Also from “Bible Reflections”: (“a song in meditation of the Sabbath of God in Creation”)

6. God is at Work! Hallelujah!

God is at Work! Hallelujah!
God is at Work! Hallelujah!
God is at work, is at work in you.
Both to will and do in measure,
All that is in own good pleasure.
God is at work, is at work in you.

Oft without your comprehension:
Not by your own good intention;
God is at work, He’s at work in you.
How the mystery relieves us:
That by grace He has received us:
This is His work, is His work in you.
Both to will and do in measure
All that’s in His own good pleasure.
God is at work; He’s at work in you.

He works to put us where He’s resting,
In His Christ Who’s passed all testing.
God is at rest, He’s at rest in Christ!
Oh dear saints tis such a blessing,
That our God can work while resting.
God is at work; He’s at work in Christ!


Posted in Christian Poetry, Psalms Hymns Spiritual Songs, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Spiritual Songs: Sinner Woman, “Beauty for Ashes”, Precious Blood

Spiritual Songs: Sinner Woman, “Beauty for Ashes”, Precious Blood


This week we have three songs from my wife, Sheri, which I requested to share along with the Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs from my collections of Spiritual Poetry encountered in the Christian Churches in my pilgrimage. Hopefully I’ll share three from another that I’ve requested next week. I offer also to anyone known to me who wishes to add to this collection by the end of the year, that if they send me or post to me their two three favorites I’ll do my best to include them.
My wife has her own story of her life in Christ; we crossed paths some 39 years ago (1978), and these songs came out of our shared experiences in the Lord and with each other. Of course she has many dozen of songs, but these are three she has given me to share. (The punctuations or lack thereof is also hers by intent and style.)

The  Sinner Woman

There once was a woman
A sinner was she
Her heart was so lonely
She longed to  be free
To be loved! to be loved!
This was her cry
And then, came the day
That, Jesus passed by

She came gently crying
And, washing His feet
Her hair softly wiping
The tears she did  weep
How He cared! how He cared!
This Man so fair
Loved a poor woman
His grace, He did share

She kneeling and weeping
Came, kissing His feet
Her perfume so costly
Repentance so sweet
He was touched! He was touched!
Heart full of need
The wounds she did feel
He only could heal

The man who sat with Him
He thought in his heart
If He were a prophet
He’d know of her lot
How she loved! how she loved!
‘Woman of sin
And, He spoke to her
“Your sins are forgiven.”

“Your faith, it has saved you
This was His reply
She went out so peaceful
Her heart was satisfied
He forgave! He forgave!!!
This gentle Man
Who can forgive sin?
Only our  God can!
(Who can forgive sin?
Only our God can!)

Sheri Miles   1994.  (c).  Luke 7. (Used with permission.)

“Beauty for Ashes”

Isaiah 61:3 Chorus:
He gave, Beauty, for ashes
Joy, for my mourning
And the, garment of praise
For the ache in my soul  (2x)

I look, to Jesus
To lift me from ashes
I wait, on you Lord
To breathe life in me
In Your, sweet presence
I find my purpose
In the, glad tidings
Of faith, hope and love


In contemplation,
I find redemption
Beauty surrounds me
As, I hope in You
Life’s pulse, I’m feeling
Death has been vanquished
In the deep longings
Of Spirit and soul


My Hope, is living
Faith is believing
The valley, I walked through
Though dark, now is gone
Love, lead me onward
Guide me to heaven
I walk, with Jesus
No longer, alone


You, gave, Beauty, for ashes
Joy, for my mourning
And the, garment of Praise
For the ache in my soul  (2x)

Sheri Miles 11/11/03 Copyright (c) 2004. (Used with permission.)

“Your Blood is Precious to Me”

You are the Man, Who died for me
Your body bled on Calvary’s  tree
Your head hung down so pale and weak
The blood ran down my Masters ‘ cheek
I bow before You, on bended knee
This sight, -my Master is too great for me
I’ll sigh, the prayer of repentance to Thee
Your blood, my Master, is precious to me
Nails pierced Your hands, the sword pierced Your side
Naked and shamed, my Savior You died
Blood ran that day from Your open wounds
Sacrifice slain for my sin (and yours)
I bow before You, on bended knee
This sight, my Savior is too great for me
I’ll sigh, the prayer of repentance to Thee
Your blood, my Savior, is precious to me
Men wiped, Your blood, from the ground
Hating the sight, the stained cloth thrown down
Your blood was seen as common to them
Hearts cold to God, religiously sinned
I bow before You, on bended knee
This sight, my Jesus is too great for me
I’ll sigh, the prayer of repentance to Thee
Your blood, my Jesus, is precious to me
I bow before You, on bended knee
This sight, Lord Jesus is too great for me
I’ll sigh, the prayer of repentance to Thee
Your blood, Lord Jesus, is precious to me
Your blood, Lord Jesus, is so precious to me

Sheri Miles,  August 2005. (c). (Used with permission.)

Posted in Christian Poetry, Psalms Hymns Spiritual Songs, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Father’s Heart, Son’s Cross, Mother’s Pain.

Father’s Heart, Son’s Cross, Mother’s Pain.

Today is Father’s Day and our hearts are turned to the Fathers and Husbands and Men in our lives and world. It is a great honor and joy to acknowledge God’s blessing in those of my family of a wife and 8 daughters and sons, along with the extended family in-laws with our 7 grandkids. Another good year of grace and mercy despite the world’s troubles. Thanks to all for words and thoughts of kindness and goodness; and my return to all is the same in kind in Him.
I at first wished to share two Songs and Hymns of Aquinas with that of the ‘Stabat Mater Dolorosa’, but I felt redirected to share instead some Father’s Hymns and Song of the Son connected to and related to the Mother’s Praise of the Incarnation. These Songs and Hymns were discovered in my earlier years as a Christian, and greatly helped me. I’ll first make some notices about these songs and hymns.

There are three ‘Abba Father’ Hymns.
Hymn I: By James G. Deck, published in Hymns for the Poor of the Flock 1841, 1846 edition; edited by J.G. Deck.
‘He was raised in the faith of the Church of England. As a young man he chose the army as a career. He trained at Paris, France under one of Napoleon’s generals.’ In 1835 ‘he became associated with other believers in the early days of the brethren movement’; was very active in the movement for some 40 years; very close to Wigram and Darby; was a major influence in New Zealand for the Christians and the Brethren; he labored to  unite and to reconcile the two extreme parties in the movement. He is known and loved worldwide in the Christian Church for his Hymns, Songs, and Poems.
His only published non-hymnbook we have is: ‘Joy in Departing: A Memoir of the Conversion and Last Days of Augustus James Clarke (Son of Lieut. Col. A. Clarke,…) Who Fell Asleep in Jesus, May 2nd, 1845, in the Fourteenth Year of His Age” With this verse: “To depart, and to be with Christ, is far better.”  The boy came under tutelage to the Decks at 10 years of age with his sister, whose parents were very close friends and of the same Brethren circles; a fragile child yet very tender to Christian feelings and affections; he was studious, and good in Latin; wanted to be a preacher of Christ’s Gospel; struggled with his evil nature but found faith and peace in Christ at 11 with fervent zeal; he became very fond of the Decks, calling Mr. Deck ‘Papa’; while cutting the cord tied around a mattress, the knife slipped and went deeply into his left eye; he struggled with the loss of his eye while he partially recovered, resigning in his new and simple faith to accept this accident as God’s will, and would gladly bear it for the Lord, and to live in joy in Christ with one eye; the infection and inflammation continued more or less till it caused his death at 14; during that year of immense suffering, daily getting weaker, his faith and hope and love outshined all sorrows and disappointments; he resorted to his Bible and Hymnbook in his frequent quiet times of isolation, often in a darkened room; all who visited were moved by his patient endurance and pure resignation to God’s will as he saw that his days were numbered; though very weak to even care for himself he was overjoyed to receive a promised Polyglott Bible from his father, and he read it as the days drew near, and kept it near his bed at all times; his letters to his parents, written by others, were very touching and firmly declared in Christ as his Hope, Lord, Savior, and All in God’s perfect flawless will; he read and considered many hymns as he awaited death, sharing many hours of fellowship with Deck and others; soon they all knew his favorite verses and hymns; Deck journaled that year in great detail, capturing the young boy’s spiritual progress, especially in his favorite hymns; once, on Mrs. Deck spending time with him and reading the latter part of Romans 8, he said that he felt that he had the “spirit of adoption” to  cry “Abba, Father”. Shortly after this time Mr. Deck shared with him two hymns on meditations of the Prodigal Son, 1st, Invitation Accepted, was “Just as I am—without one plea…..O Lamb of God, I come!”, which is now sung in all the churches; and the 2nd was the Prodigal’s Welcome, Accepted in the Beloved”: “O Lamb of God, in Thee!” (by M.J.D.); both these songs echoed Deck’s 1841 hymn “Abba, Father”, and in turn would produce in many others new versions of this theme. The boy near death defied his condition, and with his own feeble hands wrote his last letter to his parents comforting them of the days when he will be above with God, waiting for them in due season, that all our lives and cares are in His good hands for life or death. So the boy died resting in Jesus in hopes of a resurrection; many attended his funeral; Darby was asked to share some words, which he did at great length, in admiration of the boys faith, life, and his deep affections for Christ in his sufferings, and as an example to all.
This note as to the various Abba Father Hymns is all that I need to add: [The BHB attributes hymn #2 to James Deck, identical in meter and with similar phraseology to hymn #1, so much so that the first verse of hymn #2 is often sung as the last verse of hymn #1. Other sources give the author as Dr. Robert Stephen Hawker(1753-1827), famous preacher and grandfather of famed Cornish poet also Robert Stephen Hawker (1803-1875). Mr. Paisley simply left this hymn out of his Companion. A very similar hymn is included as #104 in “Hymns for the Little Flock”, with the senior Robert Hawker as the author. This is a correction from prior versions of HLF which gave the poet grandson as the author. The early brethren freely altered hymns to correct doctrinal errors as they saw them – the version included in BHB is substantially changed from the Hawker hymn as given in HLF, including an added 4th verse. For now it is our opinion to follow the BHB citation and assume that James Deck at the very least substantially modified the original hymn, and so will remain listed as the author.]

I. Abba, Father! We approach Thee, by James G. Deck, published in Hymns for the Poor of the Flock 1841, 1846 edition; edited by J.G. Deck.

Abba, Father! we approach Thee
In our Saviour’s precious name;
We, Thy children, here assembling,
Access to Thy presence claim;
From our sin His blood hath washed us:
‘Tis through Him our souls draw near,
And Thy Spirit, too, hath taught us,
Abba, Father! name so dear.
Once as prodigals we wandered
In our folly, far from Thee;
But Thy grace, o’er sin abounding,
Rescued us from misery:
Thou Thy prodigals hast pardoned,
Loved us with a Father’s love;
Welcomed us with joy o’erflowing,
E’en to dwell with Thee above.
Clothed in garments of salvation,
At Thy table is our place;
We rejoice, and Thou rejoicest,
In the riches of Thy grace:
It is meet, we hear Thee saying,
We should merry be and glad;
I have found My once lost children,
Now they live who once were dead.
Abba, Father! all adore Thee,
All rejoice in heaven above;
While in us they learn the wonders
Of Thy wisdom, power and love;
Soon, before Thy throne assembled,
All Thy children shall proclaim,
Glory, everlasting glory,
Be to God and to the Lamb.


II.(Attributed to Hawker (R; RS, Rbert, Robert Stephen); not verified)

“Abba Father,” thus we greet Thee,
Magnify Thy holy Name;
Lifting holy hands we bless Thee,
Brought before Thee without blame,
We have learnt Thee here in sorrow,
Strangers in an alien land,
But we touch th’eternal morrow,
Abba, as in Christ we stand.
He has told us all the secrets
Hidden in that Name of grace;
Told us of the love that purposed
We should have with Christ our place.
Thus we bless Thee, “Abba Father,”
In the freedom He has won,
Taken into all the favour
Now made known in Christ, the Son.
“Abba Father,” thus we know Thee
In that scene of brightest day;
‘Tis as sons foreknown we bless Thee;
None but sons can “Abba” say.
This high honour we inherit,
Fruit of counsel now declared,
By the Holy Spirit’s witness
Consciously in sonship shared


III. (Robert Stephen Hawker 1803-1875. ?) (Pub. 1843 in First Truths or Lessons and Hymns, a New Edition, without credit.) (Incorrectly, Robert S. Hawkes in a Chinese Hymnal)

Abba, Father! we adore Thee,
Humbly now our homage pay;
’Tis Thy children’s bliss to know Thee,
None but children “Abba” say.
This high honor we inherit,
Thy free gift through Jesus’ blood;
God the Spirit, with our spirit,
Witnesseth we’re sons of God.

Thine own purpose gave us being,
When in Christ, in that vast plan,
Thou in Christ didst choose Thy people
E’en before the world began.
Oh, what love Thou, Father, bore us!
Oh, how precious in Thy sight!
When to Thine own Son Thou gav’st us,
To Thy Son, Thy soul’s delight.

Though our nature’s fall in Adam
Shut us wholly out from God,
Thine eternal counsel brought us
Nearer still, through Jesus’ blood;
For in Him we found redemption,
Grace and glory in Thy Son;
O the height and depth of mercy!
Christ and His redeemed are one.

Hence, through all the changing seasons,
Trouble, sickness, sorrow, woe,
Nothing changeth Thine affections,
Love divine shall bring us through;
Soon shall all Thy blood-bought children
Round the throne their anthems raise,
And, in songs of rich salvation,
Shout to Thine eternal praise.


IV. Stabat Mater Dolorosa: (“Considered one of the seven greatest Latin hymns of all time. It is based upon the prophecy of Simeon that a sword was to pierce the heart of Our Lord’s mother, Mary (Lk2:35).” This 13th-century hymn is variously attributed to Gregory I, Bernard of Clairvaux, Pope Innocent III, St. Bonaventura, Jacopone da Todi, Pope John XXII, and Pope Gregory XI, and others; translated from Latin to English by Edward Caswall (1814-1878). It was the liturgical sequence for the Seven Sorrows of the Virgin (Sept. 15 and the Friday before Palm Sunday). It is no longer used on the Friday before Palm Sunday and is optional on September 15, but it continues to be sung at the Stations of the Cross during Lenten services.” Translated by Edward Caswall, an Anglican turned Catholic.
((I have altered the original with the words in parenthesis from what was said of the Mother to speak of the Father.))

Part I: Mary’s Pain at the Son’s Cross & Suffering for Man.
At the cross her station keeping,
Stood the mournful Mother weeping,
Close to Jesus to the last.
Through her heart, His sorrow sharing,
All His bitter anguish bearing,
Now at length the sword had pass’d.
Oh, how sad and sore distress’d
Was that Mother highly blest
Of the sole-begotten One!
Christ above in torment hangs;
She beneath beholds the pangs
Of her dying glorious Son.
Is there one who would not weep,
Whelm’d in miseries so deep
Christ’s dear Mother to behold?
Can the human heart refrain
From partaking in her pain,
In that Mother’s pain untold?
Bruis’d, derided, curs’d, defil’d,
She beheld her tender Child
All with bloody scourges rent.
For the sins of His own nation,
Saw Him hang in desolation,
Till His spirit forth He sent.

Part II: The Father’s Heart in the Son’s Death for Man.
O Thou (Father)! Fount of love!
Touch my spirit from above;
Make my heart with Thine accord.
Make me feel as Thou hast felt;
Make my soul to glow and melt
With the love of Christ (Thy Word).
Holy (Father)! pierce me through;
In my heart each wound renew
Of my Saviour crucified.
Let me share with Thee His pain,
Who for all my sins was slain,
Who for me in torments died.
Let me mingle tears with Thee,
Mourning Him who mourn’d for me,
All the days that I may live.
By the cross with Thee to stay,
There (to) Thee to weep and pray,
Is all I ask of Thee to give.
(Father) of all (fathers) best,
Listen to my fond request
Let me share Thy grief Divine.
Let me, to my latest breath,
In my body bear the death
Of that dying Son of Thine.
Wounded with His every wound,
Steep my soul till it hath swoon’d
In His very blood away.
Be to me, O (Father), nigh,
Lest in flames I burn and die,
In His awful Judgment day.

Part III: Paradise with God.
Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence,
Be Thy (Father)my Defense,
Be Thy cross my victory.
While my body here decays,
May my soul Thy goodness praise,
Safe in Paradise with Thee.

Posted in Christian Poetry, Psalms Hymns Spiritual Songs, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment

Songs of Salvation & Obedience

Songs of Salvation & Obedience

This week we have three Songs and Hymns that molded my earliest years as a Christian. As a Baptist ‘Amazing Grace’ and ‘What a Friend’ nurtured my faith and fellowship in Christ; my salvation was rooted in His work and love. As I grew those first few years, from my 17th to 21st year I struggled with Christian fellowship and rejection, which confused my journey, but did not hinder or halted it. Then as a non-Baptist my walk and talk with other Christians enlarged and increased my love for God’s family in Christ. Yet this too proved conflicting as fellowship and obedience, The third song and hymn is based on little Samuel’s encounter with the Voice of the Lord; and for me in my relations to other Christians and Brethren I found this Hymn a refuge for my turmoil.

1. Amazing Grace :” the enduring Christian hymn, is one of the most well-known and beloved spiritual songs ever written. It was penned by the Englishman John Newton (1725-1807).” Son of a Shipmaster, his mother died of tuberculosis two weeks before his 7th birthday; taken to sea at 11 with his father for several years; avoiding his father’s plans to send him to Jamaica to work on the sugar plantation when 17 years old, he signed up with a merchant ship to the Mediterranean Sea; at 18 captured and pressed into the Royal Navy service; at 19 he tried to desert, and was severely flogged with 96 lashes, and demoted; he wanted to murder the captain and then commit suicide ; he soon transferred to a slave ship bound for West Africa; rebellious with the crew, they left him in the hands of a slave trader; who in turn gave him to his native princess wife as her slave, who treated badly as a slave (I was once an infidel and libertine, a servant of slaves in West Africa”); three years later his father’s friend a sea captain in search for him, found and rescued him. But God was just beginning His great work: The ship encountered a severe storm off the coast of Donegal, Ireland and almost sank. Newton awoke in the middle of the night and, as the ship filled with water, called out to God. The cargo shifted and stopped up the hole, and the ship drifted to safety. Newton marked this experience as the beginning of his conversion to evangelical Christianity” and to Christ. . He eventually became an ordained minister in the Church of England; and an advocate to abolish slavery.

2. What a Friend: “”What a Friend We Have in Jesus” is a Christian hymn originally written by Joseph M. Scriven as a poem in 1855 to comfort his mother who was living in Ireland while he was in Canada. Scriven originally published the poem anonymously, and only received full credit for it in the 1880s.  The tune to the hymn was composed by Charles Crozat Converse in 1868. William Bolcom composed a setting of the hymn.” It is popular in Japan and Asia, in Hindi, and with English popular culture. It is found in most the Church Hymnals and SongBooks.

3. Master Speak: Havergal, Frances Ridley, daughter of the Rev. W. H. Havergal, was born at Astley, Worcestershire, Dec. 14, 1836. Five years later her father removed to the Rectory of St. Nicholas, Worcester. In August, 1850, she entered Mrs. Teed’s school, whose influence over her was most beneficial. In the following year she says, “I committed my soul to the Saviour, and earth and heaven seemed brighter from that moment.” “Miss Havergal’s scholastic acquirements were extensive, embracing several modern languages, together with Greek and Hebrew. She does not occupy, and did not claim for herself, a prominent place as a poet, but by her distinct individuality she carved out a niche which she alone could fill. Simply and sweetly she sang the love of God, and His way of salvation. To this end, and for this object, her whole life and all her powers were consecrated. She lives and speaks in every line of her poetry. Her poems are permeated with the fragrance of her passionate love of Jesus. Her religious views and theological bias are distinctly set forth in her poems, and may be described as mildly Calvinistic, without the severe dogmatic tenet of reprobation. The burden of her writings is a free and full salvation, through the Redeemer’s merits, for every sinner who will receive it, and her life was devoted to the proclamation of this truth by personal labours, literary efforts, and earnest interest in Foreign Missions.”


1. Amazing Grace!
John Newton, pub.1779 .Anonymous/Unknown, revised pub.1829

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.
’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed.
Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come;
’Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.
The Lord has promised good to me,
His Word my hope secures;
He will my Shield and Portion be,
As long as life endures.
Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,
And mortal life shall cease,
I shall possess, within the veil,
A life of joy and peace.
The earth shall soon dissolve like snow,
The sun forbear to shine;
But God, who called me here below,
Will be forever mine.
When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we’d first begun.

2. What a Friend We Have in Jesus
Joseph M. Scriven, 1855

What a friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
Everything to God in prayer!
Oh, what peace we often forfeit,
Oh, what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer!
Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged—
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a Friend so faithful,
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Are we weak and heavy-laden,
Cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge—
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do thy friends despise, forsake thee?
Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In His arms He’ll take and shield thee,
Thou wilt find a solace there.
Blessed Savior, Thou hast promised
Thou wilt all our burdens bear;
May we ever, Lord, be bringing
All to Thee in earnest prayer.
Soon in glory bright, unclouded,
There will be no need for prayer—
Rapture, praise, and endless worship
Will be our sweet portion there.

3. Master Speak!
Frances R. Havergal, Ministry of Song, 1869.

Master, speak! Thy servant heareth,
Waiting for Thy gracious word,
Longing for Thy voice that cheereth;
Master! let it now be heard.
I am listening, Lord, for Thee:
What hast Thou to say to me?
Speak to me by name, O Master,
Let me know it is to me;
Speak, that I may follow faster,
With a step more firm and free,
Where the Shepherd leads the flock,
In the shadow of the rock.
Master, speak! Though least and lowest,
Let me not unheard depart;
Master, speak! For O, Thou knowest
All the yearning of my heart,
Knowest all its truest need:
Speak! and make me blest indeed.
Master, speak! and make me ready,
When Thy voice is truly heard,
With obedience glad and steady
Still to follow every word.
I am listening, Lord, for Thee:
Master, speak! O, speak to me!

Posted in Christian Poetry, Psalms Hymns Spiritual Songs, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

God’s Sovereignty & Christ’s Incarnation & Love

Three Songs-Hymns of God’s Sovereignty & Christ’s Incarnation & Love.
This week I’ve been busy on, which I recently rejoined, and have been occupied in heart and mind with God’s sovereignty and providence in man’s salvation and God’s Kingdom in Christ. It has caused me to reflect on some Songs and Hymns that encouraged me some years back as a young Christian.  So I submit and Share these three.
Thy Choice & Love First.
(Josiah Conder, 1836. “London Congregationalist, an abolitionist, and took an active part in seeking to repeal British anti-Jewish laws.”)
’Tis not that I did choose Thee,
For Lord, that could not be;
This heart would still refuse Thee,
Hadst Thou not chosen me.
Thou from the sin that stained me
Hast cleansed and set me free;
Of old Thou hast ordained me,
That I should live to Thee.
’Twas sov’reign (mercy) called me
And taught my op’ning mind;
The world had else enthralled me,
To heav’nly glories blind.
My heart owns none before Thee,
For Thy rich grace I thirst;
This knowing, if I love Thee,
Thou must have loved me first.
Fairest Lord Jesus!
(“Written by German Jesuits as Schönster Herr Jesu in the 17th Century. Published in the Münster Gesangbuch, 1677, and translated from German to English by Joseph A. Seiss, 1873.”)
Fairest Lord Jesus, Ruler of all nature,
O Thou of God and man the Son,
Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor,
Thou, my soul’s glory, joy and crown.
Fair are the meadows, fairer still the woodlands,
Robed in the blooming garb of spring;
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer,
Who makes the woeful heart to sing.
Fair is the sunshine,  Fairer still the moonlight,
And all the twinkling starry host;
Jesus shines brighter, Jesus shines purer
Than all the angels heaven can boast.
All fairest beauty, heavenly and earthly,
Wondrously, Jesus, is found in Thee;
None can be nearer, fairer or dearer,
Than Thou, my Savior, art to me.
Beautiful Savior! Lord of all the nations!
Son of God and Son of Man!
Glory and honor, praise, adoration,
Now and forever more be Thine.
Down From His Glory.
(William E. Booth-Clibborn; Methodist, Salvation Army; Humanitarian of Britain.)
Down from His glory,
Ever living story,
My God and Savior came,
And Jesus was His name.
Born in a manger,
To His own a stranger,
A Man of sorrows, tears and agony.
O how I love Him! How I adore Him!
My Breath, my Sunshine, my All in all!
The great Creator became my Savior,
And all God’s Fulness dwelleth in Him.
What condescension,
Bringing us redemption;
That in the dead of night,
Not one faint hope in sight,
God, gracious, tender,
Laid aside His splendor,
Stooping to woo, to win, to save my soul.
Without reluctance,
Flesh and blood His substance
He took the form of man,
Revealed the hidden (plan).
O glorious Myst’ry,
Sacrifice of Calv’ry,
And now I know Thou art the great “I AM.”
Posted in Christian Poetry, Psalms Hymns Spiritual Songs, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

1. Day of Wrath & Doom & Judgment. 2. Celestial Country. World Contempt. New Jerusalem

This week we have two poetic pieces that have found their way into the Church and the hearts of countless Christians both Catholics and Protestants. These two Poems, Songs, and Hymns I encountered in my days with the Catholics in San Diego in the mid 70s. They are both from the Middle Ages, and have very important historical value and influence. I will only add to the citations given below that both these Hymns and Poems are Songs that were productions of their times, that were believed by Scripture and world events, and the Church’s condition, to be the end of the age, and the Lord’s advent and the judgment day to follow was about to occur and manifest. The Holy Spirit no doubt at work in all of it in many ways.

1. Day of Wrath & Doom & Judgment
From Schaff’s Library of Library of Religious Poetry: (That Day of Wrath!” Dies Irae, Dies Illa.”
The “Dies Irae” is an act of humiliation and prayer for mercy in view of the impending day of judgment, based upon Zeph. 1:15,16; Matt 25. ; 2 Peter 3:10-12. It was written for private devotion, in a lonely monastic cell, about 1250, by Thomas of Celano, the friend and biographer of St. Francis of Assist. It is the acknowledged masterpiece of Latin poetry, and the most sublime of all uninspired hymns, often translated, reproduced, and imitated, but never equalled. It is one of those rare productions which can never die, which increase in value as the ages advance. It has commanded the admiration of poets and men of letters, like Goethe, Walter Scott, and Macau lay. and has inspired some of the greatest musicians, from Palestrina down to Mozart. The secret of the irresistible power of the ” Dies Ira:” lies in the awful grandeur of the theme, the intense earnestness and pathos of the poet, the simple majesty and solemn music of its language, the stately metre, the triple rhyme, and the vowel assonances chosen in striking adaptation to the sense, — all combining to produce an overwhelming effect, as if we heard the final crash of the universe, the commotion of the
opening graves, the trumpet of the archangel that summons the quick and the dead, and as if we saw the ” King of tremendous majesty ” seated on the throne of justice and mercy, and ready to dispense everlasting life or everlasting woe. Goethe describes its effect upon the guilty conscience in the Cathedral scene of ‘ ‘ Faust ” : —” Horror seizes thee ! The trump sounds ! The grave trembles ! And thy heart From the repose of its ashes, For fiery torment Brought to life again, Trembles up ! ”    The opening line, which is literally borrowed from the Vulgate version of Zeph. 1:15, strikes the key-note to the whole with a startling sound, and brings up at once the judgment scene as an awful, impending reality. The feeling of terror
occasioned by the contemplation of that event culminates in the cry of repentance, verse 7, “Quid sum, miser, tunc dicturus” ; but from this the poet rises at once to the prayer of faith, and takes refuge from the wrath to come in the infinite mercy of Him who suffered nameless pain for a guilty world, who pardoned the sinful Magdalene, and saved the dying robber. —This note is taken substantially from Schaff’s ” Christ in Song.”  For further information, see Lisco’s “Dies Irae,” Berlin, 1840; and two articles by Dr Schaff, in the Hours at Home, New York, May and July, 1868, with specimens of many translations.)

Day of Wrath & Doom & Judgment
(by Thomas of Celano. Translated by W. J. Irons, D.D., 1848. This is the accepted version of the “Dies Ira” in Great Britain [and America].)

Day of wrath and doom impending.
David’s word with Sibyl’s blending,
Heaven and earth in ashes ending.
Oh, what fear man’s bosom rendeth,
When from heaven the Judge descendeth,
On whose sentence all dependeth.
Wondrous sound the trumpet flingeth;
Through earth’s sepulchres it ringeth;
All before the throne it bringeth.
Death is struck, and nature quaking,
All creation is awaking,
To its Judge an answer making.
Day of wrath and doom impending.
David’s word with Sibyl’s blending,
Heaven and earth in ashes ending.
When the Judge his seat attaineth,
And each hidden deed arraigneth,
Nothing unavenged remaineth.
What shall I, frail man, be pleading?
Who for me be interceding,
When the just are mercy needing?
King of Majesty tremendous,
Who dost free salvation send us,
Fount of pity, then befriend us!
Think, kind Jesu! – my salvation
Caused Thy wondrous Incarnation;
Leave me not to reprobation.
Faint and weary, Thou hast sought me,
On the Cross of suffering bought me.
Shall such grace be vainly brought me?
Righteous Judge, for sin’s pollution
Grant Thy gift of absolution,
Ere the day of retribution.
Guilty, now I pour my moaning,
All my shame with anguish owning;
Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning!
Through the (sinful woman shriven),
Through the dying thief forgiven,
Thou to me a hope hast given.
Worthless are my prayers and sighing,
Yet, good Lord, in grace complying,
Rescue me from fires undying.
With Thy sheep a place provide me,
From the goats afar divide me,
To Thy right hand do Thou guide me.
When the wicked are confounded,
Doomed to flames of woe unbounded,
Call me with Thy saints surrounded.
Low I kneel, with heart’s submission,
See, like ashes, my contrition,
Help me in my last condition.
Ah! that day of tears and mourning,
From the dust of earth returning
Man for judgement must prepare him,
(Spare, O God, in mercy spare (him).
Lord, all-pitying, Jesus blest,
Grant them Thine eternal rest.


2. Celestial Country. World Contempt. New Jerusalem
From Wikipedia: (Bernard of Cluny (or, of Morlaix or Morlay) was a twelfth-century French Benedictine monk.  Bernard’s family of origin and place of birth are not known for certain; Bernard, of Cluny, is sometimes known as Bernard of Morlaix, in Brittany, where he was bom of English parents..  It is believed that he was at first a monk of Saint-Sauveur d’Aniane and that he entered the monastery of Cluny during the administration of Abbot Pons (1109–1122).
The first monastery in Burgundy was at Cluny, started by the Benedictine monks in 940 AD. With over 1,000 monks in residence, more than the population of most towns of that time, large buildings had to be erected to house everyone and 40 farms produced the food. The abbey became grander and grander as its power over the whole of Europe increased. It was the largest church in Christendom, only succeeded later by St. Peter’s in Rome, dominating for hundreds of years. It organized pilgrimages, oversaw hundreds of other monasteries and governed by the power of excommunication.  Bernard is best known as the author of De Contemptu Mundi (On Contempt for the World), a 3,000 verse poem of stinging Latin satire directed against the secular and religious failings he observed in the world around him. He spares no one; priests, nuns, bishops, monks, and even Rome itself are mercilessly scourged for their shortcomings. For this reason it was first printed by Matthias Flacius in Varia poemata de corrupto ecclesiae statu (Basle, 1557) as one of his testes veritatis, or witnesses of the deep-seated corruption of medieval society and of the Church, and was often reprinted by Protestants in the course of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.
St. Bernard’s writings acquired for him the title of the ” Last of the Fathers,” so great was their authority.”)
From Julian’s Hymnology: (Hora Novissima. tempoTM pessima sunt, trigilemus. Bernard of Ct

luny [The Heavenly Jerusalem.’] This magnificent poem, evidently inspired by the last two chapters of the Revelation of St. John, was composed in the Abbey of Cluny, about 1145, and extends to about 3000 lines. It is found in a 13th cent. Ms….. In Trench’s Sac. Latin Poetry, 1849, 96 lines were given, beginning with “Hie breve vivitur” (from which Dr. Neale’s first translation was made); and m Dr. Neale’s Rhythm of Bernard de Morlaix, Monk of Cluny, on the Celestial Country, 1858, there are 218 lines. The original is dedicated to Peter the Venerable, the General of the Order to which St. Bernard belonged, and is entitled, ” De contemptu mnndi.” (Dr. Schaff, in his Lib. of Religious Poetry, 1883, p. 981, says this poem was printed in Paris in 1483. We have not seen this edition.) (Schaff’s: “De Contemptu Mundi,” intended to persuade to the contempt of the world, and to the seeking of those things that are above. Dr. Neale says that he looks upon these verses as the most lovely in the same way that the “Dies Ira: ” is the most sublime and the ” Stabat Mater” the most pathetic of mediaeval hymns. The poem of Bernard was printed in 1483, at Paris In 1865 Mr. William C. Prime, in editing “The Seven Great Hymns of the Mediaeval Church,” stated that no copy of ” De Contemptu Mundi” was known to exist in the United States: but Dr. Philip Schaff owns a copy of the edition printed at Basel in 1557….The original was written about 1145, and was divided into three books. Dr. Neale has freely reproduced the principal portions. It is a severe satire on the vices of the age.)
Bernard’s words in his dedicatory epistle are:—
“Often and of long time I had heard the Bridegroom, but had not listened to Him, saying—’Thy voles; is pleasant in Mine ears.’ And again the Beloved cried out, ‘Open to Me, My sister.’ What then? I arose, that I might open to my Beloved. And I said,  Lord, to the end that my heart may think, that my pen may write, and that my mouth may set forth Thy praise, pour both into my heart and pen and mouth Thy grace.’ And the Lord said, ‘Open thy mouth.’ Which He straightway filled with the spirit of wisdom and understanding; that by one I might speak truly, by the other perspicuously. And I say it in nowise arrogantly, but with all humility, and therefore boldly: that unless that Spirit of Wisdom and Understanding had been with me, and flowed in upon so difficult a metre, I could not have composed so long a work. For that kind of metre, continuous dactylic (except the final trochee or spondee), preserving also, as it does, the Leonine sonorousness, had almost, not to sav altogether, grown obsolete through its difficulty. For Hildebert of Laverdin, who from his immense learning was first raised to the Episcopate and to the Metropolitan dignity; and Vuichard, Canon of Lyons, excellent versifiers, how little they wrote in this metre, is manifest to all.” (Neale’s Rhythm, arc, Preface.)
The poem is written in dactylic hexameters, with the leonine (sometimes a trisyllable or dactylic), and tailed rhyme, each line being broken up into three parts…)

Celestial Country. World Contempt. New Jerusalem
(St, Bernard of Cluny, Morlaix; translated from Latin by J.M. Neale,Dr.)

The world is very evil!   The times are waxing late;
Be sober and keep vigil,  The judge is at the gate-
The judge that comes in mercy,  The judge that comes with might,
To terminate the evil,  To diadem the right.
When the just and gentle Monarch  Shall summon from the tomb,
Let man, the guilty, tremble,  For Man, the God, shall doom!
Arise, arise, good Christian,  Let right to wrong succeed;
Let penitential sorrow   To heavenly gladness lead-
To the light that hath no evening,   That knows nor moon nor sun,
The light so new and golden,  The light that is but one.
And when the Sole-Begotten   Shall render up once more
The kingdom to the Father,   Whose own it was before,
Then glory yet unheard of   Shall shed abroad its ray,
Resolving all enigmas,   An endless Sabbath-day.
Then, then from his oppressors   The Hebrew shall go free,
And celebrate in triumph  The year of jubilee;
And the sunlit Land that recks not  Of tempest nor of fight,
Shall fold within its bosom   Each happy Israelite–
The Home of fadeless splendor,  Of flowers that fear no thorn,
Where they shall dwell as children,  Who here as exiles mourn.
Midst power that knows no limit,  And wisdom free from bound,
The Beatific Vision   Shall glad the Saints around-
The peace of all the faithful,   The calm of all the blest,
Inviolate, unvaried,   Divinest, sweetest, best.
Yes, peace! for war is needless-   Yes, calm! for storm is past–
And goal from finished labor,   And anchorage at last.
That peace-but who may claim it?  The guileless in their way,
Who keep the ranks of battle,   Who mean the thing they say-
The peace that is for heaven,   And shall be for the earth;
The palace that re-echoes   With festal song and mirth;
The garden, breathing spices,   The paradise on high;
Grace beautified to glory,   Unceasing minstrelsy.
There nothing can be feeble,   There none can ever mourn,
There nothing is divided,   There nothing can be torn.
‘Tis fury, ill, and scandal,   ‘Tis peaceless peace below;
Peace, endless, strifeless, ageless,  The halls of Syon know.
O happy, holy portion,   Refection for the blest,
True vision of true beauty,   Sweet cure of all distrest!
Strive, man, to win that glory;   Toil, man, to gain that light;
Send hope before to grasp it,   Till hope be last in sight;
Till Jesus gives the portion   Those blessed souls to fill-
The insatiate, yet satisfied,   The full, yet craving still.
That fulness and that craving   Alike are free from pain,
Where thou, midst heavenly citizens,  A home like theirs shalt gain.
Here is the warlike trumpet;  There, life set free from sin,
When to the last Great Supper  The faithful shall come in;
When the heavenly net is laden  With fishes many and great
(So glorious in its fulness,    Yet so inviolate);
And perfect from unperfected,  And fall’n from those that stand,
And the sheep-flock from the goat-herd  Shall part an either hand.
And these shall pass to torment,   And those shall triumph then-
The new peculiar nation,   Blest number of blest men.
Jerusalem demands them;   They paid the price on earth,
And now shall reap the harvest   In blissfulness and mirth-
The glorious holy people,    Who evermore relied
Upon their Chief and Father,   The King, the Crucified–
The sacred ransomed number   Now bright with endless sheen,
Who made the Cross their watchword    Of Jesus Nazarene,
Who (fed with heavenly nectar   Where soul-like odors play)
Draw out the endless leisure    Of that long vernal day.
And, through the sacred lilies   And flowers on every side,
The happy dear-bought people   Go wandering far and wide;
Their breasts are filled with gladness,  Their mouths are tun’d to praise,
What time, now safe for ever,    On former sins they gaze:
The fouler was the error,   The sadder was the fall,
The ampler are the praises   Of Him who pardoned all.
Their one and only anthem,   The fulness of His love,
Who gives instead of torment,   Eternal joys above-
Instead of torment, glory;   Instead of death, that life
Wherewith your happy Country,   True Israelites, is rife.
Brief life is here our portion,   Brief sorrow, short-liv’d care;
The life that knows no ending-   The tearless life, is there.
O happy retribution!   Short toil, eternal rest;
For 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 dwelling,    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;
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 Syon, in her anguish,   With Babylon must cope;
But He whom now we trust in   Shall then be seen and known,
And they that know and see Him   Shall have Him for their own.
The miserable pleasures   Of the body shall decay;
The bland and flattering struggles   Of the flesh shall pass away;
And none shall there be jealous,  And none shall there contend;
Fraud, clamor, guile-what say I?   All ill, all ill shall end!
And there is David’s Fountain,   And life in fullest glow;
And there the light is golden,   And milk and honey flow-
The light that hath no evening,   The health that hath no sore,
The life that hath no ending,   But lasteth evermore.
There Jesus shall embrace us,   There Jesus be embraced-
That spirit’s food and sunshine   Whence earthly love is chased.
Amidst the happy chorus,   A place, however low,
Shall shew Him us, and shewing,  Shall satiate evermore.
By hope we struggle onward:   While here we must be fed
By milk, as tender infants,   But there by Living Bread.
The night was full of terror,  The morn is bright with gladness;
The Cross becomes our harbor,  And we triumph after sadness.
And Jesus to His true ones   Brings trophies fair to see;
And Jesus shall be loved, and    Beheld in Galilee-
Beheld, when morn shall waken,  And shadows shall decay,
And each true-hearted servant   Shall shine as doth the day;
And every ear shall hear it–   “Behold thy King’s array,
Behold thy God in beauty,   The Law hath pass’d away!”
Yes I God my King and Portion,   In fulness of Thy grace,
We then shall see for ever,    And worship face to face.
Then Jacob into Israel,  From earthlier self estranged,
And Leah into Rachel    For ever shall be changed;
Then all the halls of Syon   For aye shall be complete,
And in the Land of Beauty,   All things of beauty meet.
For thee, O dear, dear Country!  Mine eyes their vigils keep;
For very love, beholding   Thy happy name, they weep.
The mention of thy glory    Is unction to the breast,
And medicine in sickness,   And love, and life, and rest.
O One, O only Mansion!    O Paradise of Joy!
Where tears-are ever banished,  And smiles have no alloy,
Beside thy living waters  All plants are, great and small,
The cedar of the forest,   The hyssop of the wall;
With jaspers glow thy bulwarks,  Thy streets with emeralds blaze,
The sardius and the topaz    Unite in thee their rays;
Thine ageless walls are bonded   With amethyst unpriced;
Thy Saints build up its fabric,   And the corner-stone is Christ.
The Cross is all thy splendor,   The Crucified thy praise;
His laud and benediction    Thy ransomed people raise:
“Jesus, the Gem of Beauty,  True God and Man,” they sing,
“The never-failing Garden,   The ever-golden Ring;
The Door, the Pledge, the Husband, The Guardian of His Court;
The Day-star of Salvation,   The Porter and the Port!”
Thou hast no shore, fair ocean!  Thou hast no time, bright day!
Dear fountain of refreshment   To pilgrims far away!
Upon the Rock of Ages   They raise thy holy tower;
Thine is the victor’s laurel,  And thine the golden dower!
Thou feel’st in mystic rapture,  O Bride that know’st no guile,
The Prince’s sweetest kisses,   The Prince’s loveliest smile;
Unfading lilies, bracelets    Of living pearl thine own;
The Lamb is ever near thee,   The Bridegroom thine alone.
The Crown is He to guerdon,    The Buckler to protect,
And He Himself the Mansion,   And He the Architect.
The only art thou needest-   Thanksgiving for thy lot;
The only joy thou seekest-   The Life where Death is not.
And all thine endless leisure,   In sweetest accents, sings
The ill that was thy merit,   The wealth that is thy King’s!
Jerusalem the golden,    With milk and honey blest,
Beneath thy contemplation   Sink heart and voice oppressed.
I know not, O I know not.  What social jays are there!
What radiancy of glory,   What light beyond compare!
And when I fain would sing them,  My spirit fails and faints;
And vainly would it image   The assembly of the Saints.
They stand, those halls of Syon,   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 released,
The song of them that triumph,  The shout of them that feast;
And they who, with their Leader,  Have conquered in the fight,
For ever and for ever   Are clad in robes of white!
O holy, placid harp-notes   Of that eternal hymn!
O sacred, sweet refection,   And peace of Seraphim!
O thirst, for ever ardent,   Yet evermore content!
O true peculiar vision   Of God cunctipotent!
Ye know the many mansions  For many a glorious name,
And divers retributions  That divers merits claim;
For midst the constellations  That deck our earthly sky,
This star than that is brighter-   And so it is on high.
Jerusalem the glorious! The glory of the Elect!
O dear and future vision  That eager hearts expect!
Even now by faith I see thee,  Even here thy walls discern;
To thee my thoughts are kindled,  And strive, and pant, and yearn.
Jerusalem the only,   That look’st from heaven below,
In thee is all my glory,   In me is all my woe;
And though my body may not,  My spirit seeks thee fain,
Till flesh and earth return me   To earth and flesh again.
O none can tell thy bulwarks,   How gloriously they rise!
O none can tell thy capitals   O beautiful device!
Thy loveliness oppresses   All human thought and heart;
And none, O peace, O Syon,   Can sing thee as thou art!
New mansion of new people,  Whom God’s own love and light
Promote, increase, make holy,   Identify, unite!
Thou City of the Angels!   Thou City of the Lord!
Whose everlasting music   Is the glorious decachord!
And there the band of Prophets   United praise ascribes,
And there the twelvefold chorus   Of Israel’s ransomed tribes,
The lily-beds of virgins,   The roses’ martyr-glow,
The cohort of the Fathers  Who kept the Faith below.
And there the Sole-Begotten    Is Lord in regal state-
He, Judah‘s mystic Lion,    He, Lamb Immaculate.
O fields that know no sorrow!   O state that fears no strife!
O princely bowers! O land of flowers!  O realm and home of Life!
Jerusalem, exulting   On that securest shore,
I hope thee, wish thee, sing thee,  And love thee evermore!
I ask not for my merit,   I seek not to deny
My merit is destruction,    A child of wrath am I;
But yet with Faith I venture   And Hope upon my way;
Far those perennial guerdons   I labor night and day.
The best and dearest Father,  Who made me and Who saved,
Bore with me in defilement,   And from defilement laved,
When in His strength I struggle,   For very joy I leap,
When in my sin I totter,   I weep, or try to weep:
But grace, sweet grace celestial,  Shall all its love display,
And David’s Royal Fountain   Purge every sin away.
O mine, my golden Syon!   O lovelier far than gold,
With laurel-girt battalions,   And safe victorious fold!
O sweet and blessed Country,  Shall I ever see thy face?
O sweet and blessed Country,  Shall I ever win thy grace?
I have the hope within me  To comfort and to bless!
Shall I ever win the prize itself?  O tell me, tell me, Yes!
Exult, O dust and ashes!   The Lord shall be thy part;
His only, His for ever,  Thou shalt be, and thou art!
Exult, O dust and ashes!  The Lord shall be thy part;
His only, His for ever,   Thou shalt be, and thou art!



Posted in Christian Poetry, Psalms Hymns Spiritual Songs, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Israel’s Canaan Journey

Israel’s Canaan Journey I found while I was among the Brethren, and it has always instructed me of the Christian Church’s Pilgrimage, both individual and corporate. I tried to ascertain the correct author but have not found any reference, for from 1813 onwards none was ever given. Whether originated among the Methodists or Adventists God knows. It has found its way into many Church Hymnals and SongBooks.

(Millenial Praises, Containing a Collection of Gospel Hymns, in Four Parts; adapted to the Day of Christ’s Second Appearing, Composed for the use of His People. Hancock, Printed by Josiah Tallcott. Junior.1813. Part 4, Hymn 17.Adventist. Printed also in The Day Star for 1845 with note that it was used by the Philadelphian Brethren.) (Choice Selection of Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Designed to Aid in the Devotions of Prayer, Conference, and Camp-Meetings”, Winsor,VT.Pub. by  N.C. Goddard, 1836. Hymn 88.Methodist.)

Israel’s Canaan Journey
The old Israelites knew what it was they must do,
If fair Canaan they would possess,
They must still keep in sight of the pillar of light,
Which led on to the promised rest.
The camps on the road could not be their abode,
But as oft as the trumpet should blow,
They all glad of a chance of a further advance,
Must then take up their baggage and go.

I am thankful indeed for the heavenly Head,
Which before me hath hitherto gone;
For that pillar of love which doth onward still move,
And doth gather our souls into one. –
Now the cross bearing throng are advancing along,
And a closer communion doth flow,
Now all who would stand on the promised land,
Let them take up their crosses and go-

The way is all new, as it opens to view,
And behind is a foaming red sea;
So none now need to speak of the onions and leeks,
Or talk about garlicks to me.
My mind’s in pursuit, I must have the good fruit,
Which on Canaan’s rich vallies doth grow,
Although millions of foes should rise up and oppose,
I will take up my crosses and go.

What tho’some in the rear preach up terror & fear,
And complain of the trials they meet ;
Though the giants before with great fury do roar,
I’m resolved I will never retreat.
We are little, ’tis true, and our numbers are few,
And the sons of old Anak are tall;
But while I see a track I will never give back,
But go on at the risk of my all.

Though while scatter’d around in this wilderness ground,
With good manna a while we’ve been fed;
This will not always do, we must rise and go thro’.
Till we feed on the heavenly bread.
Now the morning doth dawn for the camps to move on,
And the priests with their trumpets do blow;
As the priests give the sound, and the trumpets resound,
All my soul is exulting to go.

On Jordan’s near side I can never abide,
For no place here of refuge I see,
Till I come to the spot, and inherit the lot
Which the Lord God will give unto me.
Now ’tis union I seek with the pure and the meek,
So an end to all discord and strife;
Since I have fix’d mine eyes on the heavenly prize,
I will go, at the risk of my life.

If I am faithful and true, and my journey pursue,
Till I stand on the heavenly shore,
I shall joyfully see what a blessing to me,
Was the mortifying cross which 1 bore.
Since these losses are gain, I will never complain,
But so long as I am able to move,
With the resolute few I’m resolv’d to go through,
Till I reach the fair Canaan above,

All my honors and wealth, all my pleasures and health,
I am willing should now be at stake,
If my Christ I obtain, I shall think it great gain
For the sacrifice which I shall make.
When I all have forsook, like a bubble ’twill look,
From the midst of a glorified throng,
Where all losses are gain, where each sorrow & pain,
Are exchanged for the conqueror’s song.

Posted in Christian Poetry, Psalms Hymns Spiritual Songs, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment