Praises to Him Who Built the Hills ~ Hymn

Praises to Him Who Built the Hills

Praises to Him who built the hills;
Praises to Him the streams who fills;
Praises to Him who lights each star
That spark­les in the blue afar.

Praises to Him who makes the morn,
And bids it glow with beams new-born;
Who draws the sha­dows of the night,
Like cur­tains, o’er our wea­ried sight.

Praises to Him whose love has giv­en,
In Christ His Son, the Life of Heav­en;
Who for our dark­ness gives us light,
And turns to day our deep­est night.

Praises to Him, in grace who came,
To bear our woe, and sin, and shame;
Who lived to die, who died to rise,
The God-ac­cept­ed sac­ri­fice.

Praises to Him the chain who broke,
Opened the pri­son, burst the yoke,
Sent forth its cap­tives, glad and free,
Heirs of an end­less li­ber­ty.

Praises to Him who sheds abroad
Within our hearts the love of God;
The Spir­it of all truth and peace,
Fountain of joy and ho­li­ness!

The Fa­ther, Son, and Spir­it, now
The hands we lift, the knees we bow;
To Jah-Je­ho­vah thus we raise
The sin­ner’s song of end­less praise

Words: Horatius Bonar, 1861.

Come, My Soul, Thy Suit Prepare ~ Hymn

Come, My Soul, Thy Suit Prepare

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.

Show me what I have to do,
Every hour my strength re­new;
Let me live a life of faith,
Let me die Thy peo­ple’s death.

Words: John Newton, 1779.

Jesu, Our Hope, Our Heart’s Desire ~ Hymn

Jesu, Our Hope, Our Heart’s Desire

Jesu, our Hope, our heart’s Desire,
Thy work of grace we sing;
Redeemer of the world art Thou,
Its Maker and its King.

How vast the mercy and the love,
Which laid our sins on Thee,
And led Thee to a cruel death,
To set Thy people free!

But now the bonds of death are burst;
The ransom has been paid;
And Thou art on Thy Father’s throne,
In glorious robes arrayed.

O may Thy mighty love prevail
Our sinful souls to spare!
O may we stand around Thy throne,
And see Thy glory there!

Jesu, our only Joy be Thou,
As Thou our Prize wilt be;
In Thee be all our glory now
And through eternity.

All praise to Thee Who art gone up
Triumphantly to Heav’n;
All praise to God the Father’s Name
And Holy Ghost be given.

Words: Un­known au­thor, 7th or 8th Cen­tu­ry (Je­su nos­tra re­demp­tio, Amor et de­sid­er­i­um); trans­lat­ed from La­tin to Eng­lish by John Chand­ler (Hymns of the Prim­i­tive Church, 1837) and the com­pil­ers of Hymns An­cient and Mo­dern, 1861.

Sovereign Ruler of the Skies ~Hymn

Sovereign Ruler of the Skies

Sovereign ruler of the skies,
Ever gracious, ever wise,
All my times are in your hand,
All events at your command!

His decree, who formed the earth,
Fixed my first and second birth;
Parents, native place, and time,
All appointed were by Him

He who formed me in the womb
He shall guide me to the tomb.
All my times shall ever be,
Ordered by His wise decree!

Times of sickness, times of health,
Times of poverty and of wealth;
Times of trial, and of grief
Times of triumph, and relief.

Plagues and death around me fly;
Till he bids, I cannot die!
Not a single shaft can hit,
Till the God of love sees fit!

O Thou gra­cious, wise and just,
In Thy hands my life I trust;
Have I some­what dear­er still?
I re­sign it to Thy will.

Thee, at all times, will I bless;
Having Thee, I all pos­sess;
I can ne’er be­reav­èd be,
Since I can­not part with Thee.

John Ryland (1753-1825)

I Was a Wandering Sheep ~ Hymn

I Was a Wandering Sheep

I was a wan­der­ing sheep,
I did not love the fold;
I did not love my Shep­herd’s voice,
I would not be con­trolled.
I was a way­ward child,
I did not love my home;
I did not love my Fa­ther’s voice,
I loved afar to roam.

The Shep­herd sought His sheep,
The Fa­ther sought His child;
They fol­lowed me o’er vale and hill,
O’er des­erts waste and wild;
They found me nigh to death,
Famished and faint and lone;
They bound me with the bands of love,
They saved the wan­d’ring one.

They spoke in ten­der love,
They raised my droop­ing head,
They gent­ly closed my bleed­ing wounds,
My faint­ing soul they fed;
They washed my filth away,
They made me clean and fair;
They brought me to my home in peace,
The long sought wan­der­er.

Jesus my Shep­herd is:
’Twas He that loved my soul;
’Twas He that washed me in His blood,
’Twas He that made me whole.
’Twas He that sought the lost,
That found the wan­d’ring sheep,
’Twas He that brought me to the fold,
’Tis He that still doth keep.

No more a wan­der­ing sheep,
I love to be con­trolled;
I love my ten­der Shep­herd’s voice,
I love the peace­ful fold.
No more a way­ward child,
I seek no more to roam;
I love my heav’n­ly Fa­ther’s voice,
I love, I love His home!

Words: Horatius Bonar, 1843.

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of Hosts!~ Hymn

Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of Hosts!

Holy, ho­ly, ho­ly Lord
God of Hosts! When Heav’n 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 sweet ac­cord,
Holy, ho­ly, ho­ly, Lord!

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 choirs 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 with full ac­cord,
Holy, ho­ly, ho­ly Lord!

Words: James Montgomery, 1832.

Jesus Shall Reign ~ Hymn

Jesus Shall Reign

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

Behold the is­lands with their kings,
And Eur­ope her best trib­ute brings;
From north to south the princ­es meet,
To pay their hom­age at His feet.

There Per­sia, glo­ri­ous to be­hold,
There In­dia shines in east­ern gold;
And bar­bar­ous na­tions at His word
Submit, and bow, and own their Lord.

To 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 hon­ors to our king;
Angels des­cend with songs again,
And earth re­peat the loud amen.

Words: Isaac Watts, 1719.

Like a River Glorious ~ Hymn

Francis Ridley Havergal is the hymnwriter of a favorite of mine from Russian Baptist Days. Like a River Glorious is so beautiful when sung with soprano, alto, tenor and bass voices. It takes me back to the times when we sang these beautiful hymns in four part harmony.

Like a River Glorious ~ Francis Ridley Havergal (1836 – 1879)

Like a river glorious, is God’s perfect peace,
Over all victorious, in its bright increase
Perfect, yet it floweth, fuller every day,
Perfect, yet it groweth, deeper all the way.

Refrain:
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest
Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest

Hidden in the hollow of His blessed hand,
Never foe can follow, never traitor stand;
Not a surge of worry, not a shade of care,
Not a blast of hurry touch the spirit there.

Refrain:
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest
Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest

Every joy or trial falleth from above,
Traced upon our dial by the sun of love;
We may trust Him fully all for us to do.
They who trust Him wholly find Him wholly true.

Refrain:
Stayed upon Jehovah, hearts are fully blest
Finding, as He promised, perfect peace and rest.

Great is the Love of Jesus ~ Hymn

Great is the Love of Jesus

Great is the love that brought me
Out of the path of sin;
Great is the love that gave me
Pardon and peace with­in.

Refrain

Great is the love that saves me,
Saves me hour by hour;
Wonderful love of Je­sus—
Who can resist its pow­er?

Great is the love that draws me
Near to my heav’n­ly guide;
Great is the love that keeps me
Close to His bleed­ing side.

Refrain

Great is the love that leads me
Safely where’er I go;
More of its pow­er and great­ness
Teach me, O Lord, to know.

Refrain

Great is the love pre­par­ing
Mansions of rest ab­ove;
There shall I know its full­ness,
Wonderful, bound­less love.

Refrain

Words: Fanny Crosby, 1894.

My Hope is Built ~ Hymn

This song is titled My Hope is Built and sometimes The Solid Rock

My Hope is Built

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness.
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly trust in Jesus’ name.

Refrain

On Christ the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand;
All other ground is sinking sand.

When darkness seems to hide His face,
I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.

Refrain

His oath, His covenant, His blood,
Support me in the whelming flood.
When all around my soul gives way,
He then is all my hope and stay.

Refrain

When He shall come with trumpet sound,
Oh may I then in Him be found.
Dressed in His righteousness alone,
Faultless to stand before the throne.

Refrain

Words: Edward Mote, cir­ca 1834; first ap­peared in Mote’s Hymns of Praise, 1836.