The Chapel Hymn Book

451.

THATCHER.

S. M.

From George Frederick Händel, 1732.

Your harps, ye trembling saints! Down from the wil lows take;

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Trust in God.

1 YOUR harps, ye trembling saints!
Down from the willows take!
Loud to the praise of love divine,
Bid every string awake.

2 Though in a foreign land,

We are not far from home; And, nearer to our house above, We every moment come.

3 His grace will, to the end,

Stronger and brighter shine;

(861).

Nor present things, nor things to come,
Shall quench the spark divine.

4 When we in darkness walk,

Nor feel the heavenly flame;

Then is the time to trust our Go!,
And rest upon his name.

5 Soon shall our doubts and fears
Subside at bis control;

His loving kindness shall break through
The midnight of the soul.

6 Blest is the man, O God!

That stays himself on thee: Who wait for thy salvation, Lord! Shall thy salvation see.

452.

Augustus M. Toplady, 1772.

Singing along the Way.

1 Now let our voices join

To raise a sacred song;

Ye pilgrims! in Jehovah's ways,
With music pass along.

1 MY SPIRIT longs for thee
To dwell within my breast;
Although unworthy, Lord! I be
Of so divine a Guest.

2 Of so divine a Guest

Unworthy though I be,

Yet hath my panting heart no rest,
Until it come to thee.

3 Until it come to thee,

In vain I look around;

In all that I can hear or see,
No rest is to be found.

(859.) 4 No rest is to be found,

But in thy bleeding love :
Oh! let my ardent wish be crowned.
And send it from above.

(869.)

John Byrom, 1814, a.

9:3 52

As pants the hart for cool- ing streams, When heat- ed

Lowell Mason, 1835.

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1 AS PANTS the hart for cooling streams, When heated in the chase,

So pants my soul, O Lord! for thee,
And thy refreshing grace.

2 For thee, the Lord, the living Lord,
My thirsty soul doth pine;
Oh! when shall I behold thy face,
Thou Majesty divine!

3 I sigh to think of happier days,

When thou, O Lord! wert nigh; When every heart was tuned to praise, And none so blessed as I.

4 Why restless, why cast down, my soul? Trust God, and thou shalt sing

His praise again, and find him still
Thy health's eternal spring.

I would not be a stranger still To that celestial place, Where I for ever hope to dwell Near my Redeemer's face.

(873.) 4

1 MY THOUGHTS surmount these lower skies, And look within the veil ;

There springs of endless pleasure rise,
The waters never fail.

2 There I behold, with sweet delight,
The blessed Three in One;
And strong affections fix my sight
On God's incarnate Son.

3 His promise stands for ever firm,
His grace shall ne'er depart,
He binds my name upon his arm,
And seals it on his heart.

I'll spend a long eternity

In pleasure and in praise.
Millions of years my wondering eyes
Shall o'er thy beauties rove,

And endless ages I'll adore

The glories of thy love.

5 Sweet Jesus! every smile of thine
Shall fresh endearments bring,
And thousand tastes of new delight
From all thy graces spring.

6 Haste, my beloved! fetch my soul
Up to thy blessed abode,-
Fly, for my spirit longs to see
My Saviour and my God.

Isaac Watts, 1707.

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2 Thy counsels, Lord! shall guide my feet,
Through this dark wilderness :

Thy hand conduct me near thy seat,
To dwell before thy face.

3 Were I in heaven without my God,
'T would be no joy to me;
And, whilst this earth is my abode,
I long for none but thee.

4 What, if the springs of life were broke,
And flesh and heart should faint?
God is my soul's eternal Rock,
The Strength of every saint.

5 But to draw near to thee, my God!
Shall be my sweet employ;

My tongue shall sound thy works abroad,
And tell the world my joy.

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.

5 Author and Guardian of my life!
Sweet Source of light divine,
And, all harmonious names in one,-
My Saviour! thou art mine!
William Cowper, 1772.

Then should my hours glide sweet away,
And live upon thy word.

2 Lord! I desire with thee to live,
Anew from day to day,

In joys the world can never give,
Nor ever take away.

(871.) 3 O Jesus! come and rule my heart,
And I'll be wholly thine;
And never, never more depart;
For thou art wholly mine.

2 The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With prayer and praise agree;
And seem, by thy sweet bounty, made
For those who follow thee.

4 Thus, till my last expiring breath,
Thy goodness I'll adore;

And, when my flesh dissolves in death,
My soul chali love thee more.

Benjamin Cleveland, 1790.

SWEET HOUR.

L. M. 8 LINES.

William B. Bradbury, 1861.

爱

Sweet hour of pray'r! sweet hour of pray'r! That calls me from a world of

And bids me, at my Fa-ther's throne, Make all my wants and wishes known; D. C.-And oft escaped the temp-ter's snare, By thy re-turn, sweet hour of pray'r!" 800 20 2

9:2

In sea-sons of dis-tress and grief, My soul has often found re

(882.)

461.

1 SWEET hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!

That cal's me from a world of care,
And bids me, at my Father's throne,
Make all my wants and wishes known :
In seasons of distress and grief,
My soul has often found relief,
And oft escaped the tempter's snare,
By thy return, sweet hour of prayer!

2 Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of
Thy wings shall my petition bear, [prayer!
To him, whose truth and faithfulness
Engage the waiting soul to bless :
And, since he bids me seek his face,
Believe his word, and trust in grace,
I'll cast on him my every care,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!
3 Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of
May I thy consolations share, [prayer!
Till, from Mount Pisgah's lofty height,
I view my home, and take my flight:
This robe of flesh I 'll drop, and rise,
To seize the everlasting prize;

And shout, while passing through the air,
Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer!
Miss Fanny Crosby, 1849.

The Hour of Prayer.

(884.)

My GOD! is any hour so sweet,
From blush of morn to evening star,

As that which calls me to thy feet-
The hour of prayer, the hour of prayer?

2 Blest is that tranquil hour of morn,
And blest that solemn hour of eve,
When, on the wings of prayer up-borne,
The world I leave, --the world I leave.
3 Then is my strength by thee renewed ;
Then are my sins by thee forgiven;
Then dost thou cheer my solitude [heaven.
With hopes of heaven, -with hopes of
4 No words can tell what sweet relief,
Here for my every want I find;
What strength for warfare, balm for grief,
What peace of mind! what peace of
mind!

462.

A-midst a thousand thoughts I rove, For-get-ful of my

Retirement and Meditation.

1 My God! permit me not to be
A stranger to myself and thee;
Amidst a thousand thoughts I rove,
Forgetful of my highest love.

high-est love,

(887.) 4 He smiles,—and seraphs tune their songs
To boundless rapture, while they gaze;
Ten thousand, thousand joyful tongues
Resound his everlasting praise.

2 Why should my passions mix with earth,
And thus debase my heavenly birth?
Why should I cleave to things below,
And let my God, my Saviour, go?

3 Call me away from flesh and sense;
One sovereign word can draw me thence;
I would obey the voice divine,
And all inferior joys resign.

4 Be earth, with all her scenes, withdrawn,
Let noise and vanity be gone;
In secret silence of the mind,
My heaven, and there my God, I find.
Isaac Watts, 1709.

463.

1 OH! might I once mount up, and see
The glories of th' eternal skies,
What little things these worlds would be!
How despicable to mine eyes!

(888.) 2 Had I a glance of thee, my God!

The Presence of Christ in Heaven.
1 ОH for a sweet, inspiring ray,
To animate our feeble strains,
From the bright realms of endless day,-
The blissful realms, where Jesus reigns! 3

2 There, low before his glorious throne,
Adoring saints and angels fall;
And, with delightful worship, own [all.
His smil› their bliss, their heaven, their

3 Immortal glories crown his head,

While tuneful hallelujahs rise,
And love, and joy, and triumph spread
Through all th' assemblies of the skies.

Kingdoms and men would vanish soon, Vanish, as though I saw them not,

As a dim candle dies at noon.

Then they might fight, and rage, and rave;
I should perceive the noise, no more
Than we can hear a shaking leaf,
While rattling thunders round us roar.
Great All in all, eternal King!
Let me but view thy lovely face,
And all my powers shall bow, and sing
Thine endless grandeur and thy grace.

Isaac Watts, 1707.

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The Chapel Hymn Book: With Tunes, for the Worship of God