Hymns

God Moves in a Mysterious Way by William Cowper

God moves in a mysterious way
his wonders to perform. William_Cowper_by_Lemuel_Francis_Abbott
He plants his footsteps in the sea
and rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines
of never-failing skill,
he treasures up his bright designs
and works his sovereign will.

You fearful saints, fresh courage take;
the clouds you so much dread
are big with mercy and shall break
in blessings on your head.

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.

Sweeter Sound Than Music Knows by John Newton

Sweeter sounds than music knows
Charm me, in Emmanuel’s Name;
All her hopes my spirit owesNEWTON2_360
To His birth, and cross, and shame.

When He came the angels sang
“Glory be to God on high,”
Lord, unloose my stammering tongue,
Who should louder sing than I.

Did the Lord a man become
That He might the law fulfill,
Bleed and suffer in my room,
And canst thou, my tongue, be still?

No, I must my praises bring,
Though they worthless are, and weak;
For should I refuse to sing
Sure the very stones would speak.

O my Savior, Shield, and Sun,
Shepherd, Brother, Husband, Friend,
Every precious name in one;
I will love Thee without end.

The Triumphs of Grace in the Wilderness by Lemuel Covell (1803)

From the realms where the day her first dawnings extends,
The Son of the gospel, in glory ascends!
Ye forests attend, while your children combine
In accents unusual, in transports divine.

Involv’d in uncertainty, darkness and death,
The clouds of destruction hung over our path,
Till yon rising splendor enlightened our way,
And pointed our steps to the regions of day.

A council, on high, has been held, to enquire
For help for mankind; and peace kindled the fire.
Provision is made for the nations distress’d;
And with the rich treasure, all lands be bless’d.

The chain of salvation, let down from above,
Cemented by justice, and brightened by love:
The safety of hope, the conductor of grace,
Joins heaven and earth in its mighty embrace.

On high see our Jesus, the penitent’s friend,
With banners of mercy, compassionate bend;
Inviting the wretched, rebellious and vile,
From ruin to flee, and repose in his smile.

The Prince of Salvation is coming, prepare
A way in the desert, his blessings to share:
He comes to relieve us from sin and from woes,
And bid the dark wilderness bud like the rose.

His reign shall extend from the east to the west,
Compose all the tumults of nature to rest,
The day-spring of glory illumines the skies,
And ages on ages of happiness rise.

The brute-hearted tempers of men shall grow tame,
The wolf and the lion lie down with the lamb;
The bear with the kine shall contentedly feed,
While children their young ones, in harmony lead.

The serpent shall dart all his venom in vain,
The rattle-snake, harmless, shall bask on the plain;
The infant shall play on the hole of the asp,
And, smiling, the folds of the cockatrice grasp.

No more shall the sound of the war-whoop be heard,
The ambush and slaughter, be no longer fear’d;
The tomahawk, buried, shall rust in the ground,
While peace and good will to the nations abound.

All spirit of war, to the gospel shall bow,
The bow lie, unstrung, at the tail of the plough;
To prune the young orchards, the spear shall be bent;
And loving the the world with a smile of content.

Slight tinctures of skin shall no longer engage,
The fury of jealous, murder and rage;
The white and the red shall, in friendship be join’d,
Wide spreading benevolences over mankind.

Hail! scene of felicity, transport and joy!
Where sin and vexation shall scarcely annoy:
Rich blessings of grace, from above, shall be giv’n,
And life only serve for a passage to heav’n!

Roll forward, dear Savior, roll forward the day
When all shall submit and rejoice in thy sway:
When white men and Indians, united in praise,
One vast hallelujah, triumphant, shall raise!

by  Lemuel Covell (1803)

I Asked The Lord That I Might Grow by John Newton

newton_j2I asked the Lord that I might grow
In faith, and love, and every grace;
Might more of His salvation know,
And seek, more earnestly, His face.

’Twas He who taught me thus to pray,
And He, I trust, has answered prayer!
But it has been in such a way,
As almost drove me to despair.

I hoped that in some favored hour,
At once He’d answer my request;
And by His love’s constraining pow’r,
Subdue my sins, and give me rest.

Instead of this, He made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry pow’rs of hell
Assault my soul in every part.

Yea more, with His own hand He seemed
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Crossed all the fair designs I schemed,
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low.

Lord, why is this, I trembling cried,
Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?
“’Tis in this way, the Lord replied,
I answer prayer for grace and faith.

These inward trials I employ,
From self, and pride, to set thee free;
And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
That thou may’st find thy all in Me.”

by John Newton

Great God, We Sing That Mighty Hand by Philip Doddridge

doddridge_pGreat God! we sing that mighty hand
By which supported still we stand;
The opening year thy mercy shows;
Thy mercy crowns it till its close.

By day, by night, at home, abroad,
Still are we guarded by our God;
By his incessant bounty fed,
By his unerring counsel led.

With grateful hearts the past we own;
The future, all to us unknown,
We to thy guardian care commit,
And peaceful leave before thy feet.

In scenes exalted or depressed
Thou art our joy, and Thou our rest;
Thy goodness all our hopes shall raise,
Adored through all our changing days.

When death shall interrupt these songs,
And seal in silence mortal tongues,
New life, new blessings, and new love,
Will sweeter hymns inspire above.

by Philip Doddridge

Christ The Supreme Beauty by Anne Steele

(Isaiah 33:17)

Should nature's charms, to please the eye, 
	In sweet assemblage join, 
All nature's charms would droop and die, 
	Jesus, compar'd with thine. 

Vain were her fairest beams display'd, 
	And vain her blooming store; 
Ev'n brightness languishes to shade, 
	And beauty is no more. 

But ah, how far from mortal sight, 
	The Lord of glory dwells! 
A veil of interposing night 
	His radiant face conceals. 

O could my longing spirit rise 
	On strong immortal wing, 
And reach thy palace in the skies, 
	My Saviour, and my king!

There myriads worship at thy feet, 
	And there, (divine employ!) 
The triumphs of thy love repeat, 
	In songs of endless joy. 

Thy presence beams eternal day, 
	O'er all the blissful place; 
Who would not drop this load of clay, 
	And die to see thy face?

by Anne Steele

Come Heavenly Love, Inspire My Song by Anne Steele

Come heavenly love, inspire my song,
With thy immortal flame;
And teach my heart, to teach my tongue,
The Savior’s lovely name.

The Savior! O what endless charms
Dwell in the blissful sound!
Its influence every fear disarms,
And spreads sweet comfort round.

Here pardon, life, and joys divine
In rich effusion flow,
For guilty rebels lost in sin,
And doomed to endless woe.

God’s only Son, (stupendous grace!)
Forsook his throne above;
And swift to save our wretched race,
He flew on wings of love.

Th’ Almighty former of the skies
Stooped to our vile abode;
While angels viewed with wondering eyes,
And hailed th’ incarnate God.

O the rich depths of love divine!
Of bliss, a boundless store:
Dear Savior, let me call thee mine,
I cannot wish for more.

On thee alone my hope relies,
Beneath thy cross I fall.
My Lord, my life, my sacrifice,
My Savior, and my all.

by Anne Steele