Category Archives: Hymns

Sleepers Awake!

 

Sleepers, wake! for night swift is flying,
The watchmen on thy walls aloud are crying,
Awake, thou city of Jerusalem!
Hear ye now, ere comes the morning,
The midnight call of solemn warning.
Where are ye, O ye wise virgins, where?
Behold, the Bridegroom comes!
Arise and take your lamps.
Alleluia.
Yourselves prepare, your Lord draws near.
He bids you to His marriage feast.
My choir sang a simpler version of this during Communion today, but this is wonderful.
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My Broken, Contrite Heart You’ll not Despise

I found a new (to me) hymn this morning in Hymns of Grace.  Titled “I Plead For Grace,” it is an adaptation of Psalm 51 by Joseph Tyrpak, and is paired with a familiar hymn tune, Morecambe.  If you would like to sing it Mr. Fleischer’s piano rendition is a nice accompaniment.

The text:

I Plead For Grace
I plead for grace,O God of steadfast love;
By Your great mercy, all my sin remove.
Deeply ashamed for spurning You alone,
I stand condemned before your holy throne.
 
Though you want truth and purity within,
I am unclean, conceived with inborn sin.
Purge me with blood, and wash me white as snow.
Hide my transgressions; heal my broken soul.
 
Create in me a spotless heart, I pray.
Take not Your Spirit! Cast me not away!
Restore to me salvation’s joy anew,
Then I will teach the lost to turn to You.
 
Save me, O God with blood my hands are stained!
Open my lips to praise Your righteous name.
Though You reject a thoughtless sacrifice,
My broken, contrite heart You’ll not despise.
 
Lord, in Your goodness, build up Zion’s walls.
Let not my sin tear down Your glorious cause.
May You delight in ev’ry sacrifice,
Offered by sinners You have purified.
 
God can be just and sinners justify
For Jesus bled God’s wrath to satisfy.
My sins the spikes that nailed Christ to the tree—
God’s love and justice there for all to see.

Glad Tidings

On Jordan’s bank the Baptist’s cry
announces that the Lord is nigh;
awake and hearken, for he brings
glad tidings of the King of kings.
Then cleansed be every breast from sin;
make straight the way for God within,
prepare we in our hearts a home
where such a mighty Guest may come.
For thou art our salvation, Lord,
our refuge and our great reward;
without thy grace we waste away
like flowers that wither and decay.
To heal the sick stretch out thine hand,
and bid the fallen sinner stand;
shine forth and let thy light restore
earth’s own true loveliness once more.
All praise, eternal Son, to thee,
whose advent doth thy people free;
whom with the Father we adore
and Holy Ghost for evermore.

How Amiable are Thy Dwellings

O how amiable are thy dwellings: thou Lord of hosts!
My soul hath a desire and longing to enter into the courts of the Lord:
My heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God.

Yea, the sparrow hath found her an house,
and the swallow a nest where she may lay her young:
even thy altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God.

Blessed are they that dwell in thy house:
They will be alway praising thee.
The glorious Majesty of the Lord our God be upon us:
prosper thou the work of our hands upon us.

O prosper thou our handy-work,
O prosper thou our handy-work.

O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.

Written by R. Vaughan Williams in 1940, text taken from Psalms 84 and 90.

This is one of the pieces of music my choir has been rehearsing.  What we lack in numbers we make up for in heart.

Sure Provisions

Written by Isaac Watts in 1719, a paraphrase of Psalm 23, and the tune titled “Resignation” in Southern Harmony, and “Irwinton” in Sacred Harp.

My Shepherd will supply my need: Jehovah is His name:
In pastures fresh He makes me feed, Beside the living stream.
He brings my wandering spirit back, When I forsake His ways;
And leads me, for His mercy’s sake, In paths of truth and grace.

When I walk through the shades of death Thy presence is my stay;
One word of Thy supporting breath Drives all my fears away.
Thy Hand, in sight of all my foes, Doth still my table spread;
My cup with blessings overflows, Thine oil anoints my head.

The sure provisions of my God Attend me all my days;
O may Thy house be my abode, And all my work be praise.
There would I find a settled rest, While others go and come;
No more a stranger, nor a guest, But like a child at home.

From the 2017 Sacred Harp Convention in Germany: