Tag Archives: Sunday Hymn

Come,Thou Almighty King

Come, Thou Almighty King

Come, Thou almighty King,
Help us Thy Name to sing, help us to praise!
Father all glorious, o’er all victorious,
Come and reign over us, Ancient of Days!

Jesus, our Lord, arise,
Scatter our enemies, and make them fall;
Let Thine almighty aid our sure defense be made,
Souls on Thee be stayed; Lord, hear our call.

Come, Thou incarnate Word,
Gird on Thy mighty sword, our prayer attend!
Come, and Thy people bless, and give Thy Word success,
Spirit of holiness, on us descend!

Come, holy Comforter,
Thy sacred witness bear in this glad hour.
Thou Who almighty art, now rule in every heart,
And ne’er from us depart, Spirit of power!

To Thee, great One in Three,
Eternal praises be, hence, evermore.
Thy sovereign majesty may we in glory see,
And to eternity love and adore!

Words: Some sources show the au­thor as “anon­y­mous.” Others cre­dit Charles Wes­ley, 1757. The words ap­peared in George White­field’s Col­lect­ion of Hymns for So­cial Wor­ship, 1757.

Music: Ital­i­an Hymn, Fe­lice de Gi­ar­di­ni, in The Col­lect­ion of Psalm and Hymn Tunes Sung at the Cha­pel of the Lock Hos­pi­tal, 1769. De Gi­ar­di­ni wrote the music spe­ci­fic­al­ly for this hymn. Al­ter­nate tune: Amer­i­ca, The­saur­us Mu­si­cus, 1744

In the days of the Amer­i­can Re­vo­lu­tion a con­gre­ga­tion of pa­tri­o­tic col­o­nists were wor­ship­ing in their church on Long Is­land when the ser­vice was in­ter­rupt­ed by the ar­riv­al of a com­pa­ny of Hess­ian troops. The cap­tain stalked up the aisle and com­mand­ed the people to sing “God Save the King.” The or­gan­ist start­ed the tune that we call “Amer­i­ca”; but the peo­ple, true to the cause of the Amer­i­can col­o­nies and to their God, sang this hymn.

ht: Cyberhymnal

Like A River Glorious ~ Hymn

I was introduced back in 2007 to Francis Ridley Havergal by Abigail. I was so excited to find out that she 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.

Blest Is the Man Who Makes the Word ~ Hymn

Blest Is the Man Who Makes the Word

Blest is the man who makes the word
Of God his con­stant guide;
There learns the path his Sav­ior trod,
Nor turns his step aside,
But shuns the broad and flow­ery way
Where vice and fol­ly love to stray.

He, like a tree whose spread­ing root
Refreshing wa­ters lave,
Whose bend­ing boughs with gold­en fruit
In rich lu­xu­ri­ance wave,
Shall firm­ly stand when storms in­vade—
No leaf shall fall, no blos­som fade.

And when, his life’s brief sum­mer o’er,
He shares the ge­ne­ral doom,
Though earth shall know his place no more,
In Hea­ven he still shall bloom;
And there, with end­less glo­ry crowned,
In fruits of right­eous­ness abound.

Words: Harriett Auber, 1829

The Cross of My Redeemer ~ Hymn

The Cross of My Redeemer

On Calvary’s distant mountain
The cross of faith I see,
Where once the Lord of glo­ry
Was cru­ci­fied for me.

Refrain

The cross of my Re­deem­er,
O may I still defend,
And through the grace He giveth
Be faithful to the end.

As on that cross extended,
He suffered, bled and died,
To sinful thoughts and pleasures
May I be cru­ci­fied.

Refrain

He bore that cross with patience;
Through sorrow dark and sin,
He bids me now, be­liev­ing,
Take up my cross for Him.

Refrain

Had I no foes to conquer
No cross on earth to bear,
A victor’s crown of triumph,
I could not hope to wear.

Refrain

Words: Fanny Crosby, (1820-1915)

At the Breaking of the Day ~ Hymn

AT the Breaking of the Day

Oh, how oft amid our la­bor
Do we think of what will be
When the boat shall drop its an­chor
In the ha­ven o’er the sea!
And our hearts, with joy ex­pand­ing,
From our tri­als look away,
When we all shall meet to­ge­ther,
At the break­ing of the day!

Refrain

At the break­ing of the day,
When we an­chor on the shore,
At the break­ing of the day,
When the storms of life are o’er,
When our sor­row and our sigh­ing,
Like a dream will pass away,
When we all shall meet to­ge­ther,
At the break­ing of the day!

Oh, how oft amid the con­flict
And the bat­tle raging high,
With a faith as clear as noon­day
We behold the vic­to­ry nigh,
And we know that with the right­eous
We shall stand in bright ar­ray,
When we all shall meet to­ge­ther,
At the break­ing of the day!

Refrain

Endless praise to our Re­deem­er
For His all aton­ing love,
That pre­pares for us a man­sion
And a crown of life above,
Where our eyes shall see the beau­ty
Of the flow’rs that ne’er de­cay,
When we all shall meet to­ge­ther,
At the break­ing of the day!

Refrain

Words: Fanny Crosby, 1891.

Jesus Lives! O Day of Days!

Christ Is Risen!

Truly He is Risen!

Khristos voskrese!    Voistinu voskrese!

Христос воскрес!
воистину воскрес!

Blessings to all on this Glorious Easter Day!

Jesus Lives! O Day of Days!

Jesus lives! O day of days!
Glad we bring our grate­ful praise;
He is ris­en! Gone the gloom,
Angels sit with­in the tomb.
Vain the taunt of Jew de­ny­ing,
Vain the vaunt o’er Je­sus dy­ing,
Heav’nly voic­es, from the grave,
Now pro­claim His pow­er to save.

Refrain

He is ris­en! Come and see,
How He tri­umphed migh­ti­ly!
Conqueror thus o’er all His foes,
Jesus from the dead arose.

Lord and Pro­phet, spake He not?
Have ye His own words for­got,
Telling, while in Ga­li­lee,
Thus the vic­to­ry should be?
How through scorn and dire af­flic­tion,
Thorny way and cru­ci­fix­ion,
Vanquished death, and rent the grave—
Christ the King should live to save.

Refrain

Tearful to the se­pul­cher
Mary comes in grief and fear;
Sees the stone now rolled away,
Hears the wait­ing an­gels say:
Why the dead among the liv­ing
Seek ye? Lo! The Lord life-giv­ing
Rises, vain the watch, the grave:
Prince of Life, He lives to save!

Refrain

Welcome then, the day of days!
Lord, ’tis Thine our tune­ful praise;
Thine, for us, the Tempt­ed, Tried,
Thine, for us, the Cru­ci­fied;
Thine for us the Re­sur­rect­ion,
Thine the Life, the Sure Pro­tect­ion.
Savior! So­ve­reign ov­er the grave,
May we know Thy pow­er to save.

He is ris­en! joy­ful­ly,
Lord! we raise our song to Thee,
Conqueror thus o’er all His foes,
Jesus from the dead arose.

Words: George D. Wildes, 1871.

The King Shall Come When Morning Dawns

The King Shall Come When Morning Dawns

The King shall come when morning dawns,
And light triumphant breaks;
When beauty gilds the eastern hills,
And life to joy awakes.

Not as of old a little child
To bear, and fight, and die,
But crowned with glory like the sun
That lights the morning sky.

O brighter than the rising morn
When He, victorious, rose,
And left the lonesome place of death,
Despite the rage of foes.

O brighter than that glorious morn
Shall this fair morning be,
When Christ, our King, in beauty comes,
And we His face shall see.

The King shall come when morning dawns,
And earth’s dark night is past;
O haste the rising of that morn,
The day that aye shall last.

And let the endless bliss begin,
By weary saints foretold,
When right shall triumph over wrong,
And truth shall be extolled.

The King shall come when morning dawns,
And light and beauty brings:
Hail, Christ the Lord! Thy people pray,
Come quickly, King of kings.

Words: Unknown au­thor; trans­lat­ed from Greek to Eng­lish by John Brown­lie in Hymns of the Russ­ian Church, 1907.

ht: cyberhymnal

How Sweet and Awful is the Place ~ Hymn

How Sweet and Awful is the Place

How sweet and awful is the place
With Christ with­in the doors,
While ev­er­last­ing love dis­plays
The choic­est of her stores!

Here ev­ery bow­el of our God
With soft com­pass­ion rolls;
Here peace and par­don bought with blood
Is food for dy­ing souls.

While all our hearts and all our songs
Join to ad­mire the feast,
Each of us cry, with thank­ful tongues,
“Lord, why was I a guest?

Why was I made to hear Thy voice,
And en­ter while there’s room,
When thou­sands make a wretch­ed choice,
And ra­ther starve than come?

’Twas the same love that spread the feast
That sweet­ly forced us in;
Else we had still re­fused to taste,
And per­ished in our sin.

Pity the na­tions, O our God!
Constrain the earth to come;
Send Thy vic­to­ri­ous Word abroad,
And bring the stran­gers home.

We long to see Thy church­es full,
That all the chos­en race
May with one voice, and heart and soul,
Sing Thy re­deem­ing grace.

My Fortress

“Battle Hymn of the Reformation”

Psalm 18:1-3:

I love you, O LORD, my strength.

The LORD is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold. 

I call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies.

Are you feeling weak or discouraged or overwhelmed? I hope you can take some time to just breath in the words of this Psalm. Read it out loud and look with me at the definitions of some of the words in the text.

Stronghold: A place that has been fortified so as to protect it against attack.
A place where a particular cause or belief is strongly defended or upheld.

Fortress: a large fortified place; a fort or group of forts, often including a town; citadel.
Any place of exceptional security; stronghold.

Shield: To cover with, or as with, a shield; to cover from danger; to defend; to protect from assault or injury.

Call upon the Lord today. Praise him because he is worthy of all our praise. Rest in the fact that He is our Rock and our deliverer. He is always with us, guiding us through His Spirit within us.

A Mighty Fortress is Our God

A mighty fortress is our God,
A bulwark never failing;
Our helper He, amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing:
For still our ancient foe
Doth seek to work us woe;
His craft and power are great,
And, armed with cruel hate,
On earth is not his equal.

Did we in our own strength confide,
Our striving would be losing;
Were not the right Man on our side,
The Man of God’s own choosing:
Dost ask who that may be?
Christ Jesus, it is He;
Lord Sabaoth, His name,
From age to age the same,
And He must win the battle.

And though this world, with devils filled,
Should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for God hath willed
His truth to triumph through us:
The Prince of Darkness grim,
We tremble not for him;
His rage we can endure,
For lo, his doom is sure,
One little word shall fell him.

That word above all earthly powers,
No thanks to them, abideth;
The Spirit and the gifts are ours
Through Him who with us sideth:
Let goods and kindred go,
This mortal life also;
The body they may kill:
God’s truth abideth still,
His kingdom is forever.

Words and Music: Martin Luther, 1529.

This song has been called the great­est hymn of the great­est man of the great­est per­i­od of Ger­man his­to­ry, and the Bat­tle Hymn of the Re­for­ma­tion. It was sung at the fun­er­al of Am­er­i­can pre­si­dent Dwight Ei­sen­how­er at the Na­tion­al Ca­thed­ral in Wash­ing­ton, DC, March 1969.

Before the Throne of God Above ~ Hymn

 

Before the Throne of God Above

Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea.
A great high priest whose name is Love
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart.
I know that while in Heaven He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart.

When Satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end of all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died
My sinful soul is counted free.
For God the just is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me.

Behold Him there the risen Lamb,
My perfect spotless righteousness,
The great unchangeable I AM,
The King of glory and of grace,
One in Himself I cannot die.
My soul is purchased by His blood,
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ my Savior and my God!

Words: Charitie L. Bancroft, 1863