HBHB^HNi MK ^IGl^L pOF^v\. . >:•'' ' I LIBRAR Y OF CON GRESS. | ^mL//,G(A J UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. f FAVORITE HYMNS ORIGINAL FORM. SELECTED AND VERIFIED Sw, WILLIAM LEONARD GAGE. >!m¥ NEW YORK : - A. S. BARNES & Co, 1874. T R LlrR RY Oi CoNHkESS WASHINGTON TO MY BRETHREN OF THE MINISTRY IN HARTFORD, THIS LITTLE BOOK IS INSCRIBED IN TOKEN OF WARM LOYE AND LEARTY ADMIRATlOlS. PREFACE. This book has been born out of my own curios- ity. Knowing that in all our modern hymn books we have many hymns rearranged, modified, or abridged, I desired to know for my own satisfac- tion, just how far these changes extend, and whether they are mutilations or improvements. The result has been a careful examination of hymns, and the bringing together in their original dress of those which I believe to be the chief favorites of American Christians. There are many others which are no less dear than those within these pages, but which find no place here, because they have been spared the touch of critics and hymn book compilers. Such, for example, are "Salvation! the joyful sound:" " Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove : "* " My God, the Spring *I am convinced that the reading of the lines " Dear Lord and shall we ever lie At this poor dying rate," was a misprint in the early English editions of Watts, and should he charged to live, not as an improvement but as the correction of a typographical error. VI PREFACE. of all my joys : " " for a closer walk with God : " " God moves in a mysterious way: " " Nearer my God to Thee." These may have been changed ; but I have not met them other than their writers left them. Of the same general class of hymns are such as I have chosen: those which are known as widely as the English language is spoken. There are certain things which have come to us invested with associations so rich and tender, that we do not ask whether they are in themselves beautiful : their meaning to us is beauty enough. And these hymns are of them : for while some of them are perhaps lacking in the highest graces of expression, and are possibly a little hard and mechanical, they have been bathed in the great wave of Christian feeling and have come out therefrom sacred. They are, next to the Bible, the most precious possession of the church. I am not sure but they are the most precious possession of our language. It is a question which the Christ- ian would not like to see decided against him, which were the harder to lose from our literature, the writings of Shakespeare or those hymns which have fed the hope and inspired the faith of so many generations of saints. The really great and noble hymns are few. It PREFACE. Vll would surprise one not used to the task, to turn over the hundreds of the verses of Watts and Doddridge, and the Wesleys, and see how small is the residue which the world will not willingly let die. Those strains which pass the ordeal provided by one of the Church fathers as the test of sound doctrine, " what is accepted everywhere, at all times and by every one," would limit our hymnol- ogy to very narrow bounds. Few of our writers have produced more than a half-dozen really supe- rior hymns : indeed, with the exception of Watts and Doddridge, and possibly of Charles Wesley, none have done so. Our choicest Christian spirits have economized this gift with rare thrift ; and have condensed their wealth into most portable and accessible vessels. And this is the more strange when w^e remember that almost all cel- ebrated hymns, as well as those not celebrated, have been thrown off in a heat : many of them by Christian ministers at the close of a sermon. They were not thought of as having any special worthi- ness : and doubtless their writers would be more amazed than we, could they now see, that all the world is singing what came to them in some gush of feeling, and dropped molten from their pens. The test of this will be found in the crude Vlll PREFA CE. forms of many of these hymns. And I hope this little book will do for others what it has done for me, in reconciling the reader to the changes which modern taste has made in well-known hymns. It is the fashion of some to decry the custom of "doctoring" our standard hymns; yet I cannot doubt that he who examines this book, while glad to have in accessible form the original of many strains that he loves, will have little desire to go back to tli e old form. The simple fact is that our older English hymn writers did not possess that trained ear for rhythm which is a distinguishing mark of our time. In Germany, Schiller and Goethe introduced a new era in melodious versification : and their contem- poraries in England did a similar service to Eng- lish poetry : and now the advance in this direc- tion lias become so great that it would seem im- possible for language to be a more dainty and exquisite medium of melodious sound than it is in the hands of Tennyson and Longfellow. Such men as Doddridge and Watts had no such training: their lines seem harsh in this age of perfect ver- sification : and there are many men whose tact and taste are so nicely cultivated that they can add to the graces of those hastily written hymns PREFACE. IX which men like Watts and Doddridge dashed off at the close of a sermon. Besides, we have advanced to a time when the old would be the new : 1 mean, that the changes which have been made, have become a part of our life, and to bring back the original form would itself produce a shock to the sense of devoutness. To take up the line in Toplady's Rock of Ages: " When my eyestrings break in death," and attempt to bring it back instead of " When my eyelids close in death," would of course produce a painful sense of novelty. True, the original is far stronger and finer : it is poetry, while the modernized ver- sion is prose ; flat and unsuggestive : an instance of change which has been no improvement. But the change has been made : and as the hymn books copy mainly from one another, the forms in which they are current has become tantamount to the original. I have brought into this selection some hymns where the changes have been very slight, and yet are interesting. Such for instance is Heber's Missionary Hymn, where the words Ceylon's isle, were originally Java's isle. A larger class are those where I have given the whole hymn : that which we sing, not being greatly changed, but PREFA CE. taken out of its connection and unity, and largely reduced in length. I have no doubt that some persons, were they engaged on this task, would have greatly extended it beyond the limits which I have assumed. There are many, very many well-known hymns, which are found in all our collections, and to which I have not given a place here. Had I purposed to print the originals of all well-known hymns, this book would have greatly outgrown its present size. I have faithfully tried to gather within these covers what a catholic taste would accept as the. prime favorites of the church. Of course I have passed over the recent rich additions to our hym- nology, except to give in their full form a few of the best. For though Ave are leaving behind us the era of Cowper and Newton and Watts, let it not be thought that the church is losing its gift of song. It seems to me, that in the elements of tenderness and devoutness, if not in the grand uplift and thrill of the older hymn writers, noth- ing finer has come from the hearts of men, than " Abide with me, fast falls the even-tide ; " " Sun of my soul thou Saviour dear ; " "I heard the voice of Jesus say;" "Lead kindly Light, amid th' encircling gloom ; " " Nearer my God to Thee ; " PREFACE, XI "Father, I know that all my life." Hymns like these and others not inferior to them, are the earnest of the Spirit, and the assurance that hymns can no more die out of the Church than can the deep and full experience of the love of Christ. Such names as Heber, and Milman, and the Carys, and Bonar, and Keble, and Kelly, and Grant, and Coxe, and Palmer, and Lyte, and Elliott, and Steele, and Waring, and Kimball, and Seagrave,and Neale are enough, even without the scores that might be added to them ; we need no more evidence than they furnish, that we have not dropped behind the last century in this great gift. In conclusion I would express my grateful ac- knowledgments to those friends who have re- sponded to my request to send me lists of their favorite hymns, and whose judgment has been a corroboration of my own. More especially let me mention Rev. William Fleming Stevenson, of Dublin, Ireland, whose labors in the department of poetical biography have been so serviceable to me in the preparation of this book. In the library of Harvard College I found a unique collection of hymnological words : and I am under special Xll PREFACE. indebtedness to Mr. Sibley for the use of them. Still greater are my obligations to Sir Roundel Palmer's Book of Praise : which has been to me a great comfort and a great help at every stage of the undertaking. W. L. GAGE. Hartford, Dec. 4 5 18TS. Fayoeite Hymets IN THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. I. OGOD of Jacob, by whose hand Thine Israel still is fed, Who through this weary pilgrimage Hast all our fathers led, To Thee our humble vows we raise, To Thee address our prayer, And in Thy kind and faithful breast, Deposit all our care. If Thou, through each perplexing path, Wilt be our constant guide : If Thou wilt daily bread supply, And raiment wilt provide : FA VORITE HYMNS IN If Thou wilt spread thy shield around, Till these our wanderings cease. And at our Fathers loved abode, Our souls arrive in peace : To Thee as to our Covenant God, We '11 our whole selves resign : And count that not our tenth alone, But all we have is Thine. Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. II. AS when the weary traveller gains The height of some o'erlooking hill, His heart revives, if 'cross the plains He eyes his home though distant still. While he surveys the much loved spot, He slights the space that lies between : His past fatigues are now forgot, Because his journey's end is seen. Thus, when the Christian pilgrim views, By faith, his mansion in the skies, The sight his fainting strength renews, And wings his speed to reach the prize. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 7 The thought of home his spirit cheers, No more he grieves for troubles past ; Nor any future trial fears, So he may safe arrive at last. 'Tis (here, he says, I am to dwell With Jesus in the realms of clay: Then I shall bid my cares farewell, And He shall wipe my tears away. Jesus on Thee our hope depends, To lead us on to Thine abode : Assured our home will make amends For all our toil while on the road. John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807. III. 3r I ^IS my happiness below JL Not to live without the cross, But the Saviour's power to know, Sanctifying every loss. Trials must and will befall : But with humble faith to see Love inscribed upon tin an all — This is happiness to me. FA VORITE HY31NS IN God in Israel, sows the seeds Of affliction, pain and toil ; These spring up and choke the weeds Which would else o'erspread the soil. Trials make the promise sweet: Trials give new life to prayer : Trials bring me to His feet. Lay me low, and keep me there. Did I meet no trials here, No chastisement by the way. Might I not with reason fear I should prove a castaway ? Bastards may escape the rod, Sunk in earthly, vain delight, But the true-born child of God Must not, would not, if he might. William Cotcper, b. 1731, d. 1800. IV. ONE sweetly solemn thought, Comes to me o 'er and o 'er ; I'm nearer home to-day Than I 've ever been before ; Nearer my Father's house Where the many mansions be ; THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. \) Nearer the great white throne, Nearer the jasper sea ; Nearer the bound of life, Where we lay our burdens down — Nearer leaving the cross, Nearer gaining the crown. But lying dimly between, "Winding down through the night, Lies the dark and uncertain stream That leads us at length to the light. Closer and closer my steps Come to the dark abysm, Closer Death to my lips Presses the awful chrism ; Father perfect my trust ! Strengthen my feeble faith ! Let me feel as I would when 1 stand On the shores of the river of death — Feel as I would were my feet Even now slipping over the brink; For it may be I 'm nearer home, Nearer now, than I think. Phoebe Gary, b. 1825, d. 1871 1* 10 FA VORITE H YMNS IN V. NOT all the blood of beasts, On Jewish altars slain, Could give the guilty conscience peace, Or wash away the stain. But Christ, the heavenly Lamb, Takes all our sins away ; A sacrifice of nobler name And richer blood than they. My faith would lay her hand On that dear Head of Thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin. My soul looks back to see The burdens Thou didct bear, When hanging on th' accursed tree, And hopes her guilt was there. Believing, we rejoice To see the curse remove, We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice, And sing His bleeding love. Isaac Watts, b 1G74, d. 17-1 THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 11 VI. OFOR a thousand tongues to sing My dear Redeemer's praise. The glories of my God and King, The triumphs of His grace. My gracious Master and my God, Assist me to proclaim, To spread, through all the earth abroad, The honors of Thy Name. Jesus, the Name that charms our fears, That bids our sorrows cease ; 'Tis music in the sinner's ears, 'Tis life, and health, and peace ! He speaks, and, listening to His voice, New life the dead receive ; The mournful, broken hearts rejoice, The humble poor believe. Hear Him, ye deaf; His praise, ye dumb, Your loosened tongues employ ; Ye blind, behold your Saviour come, And leap, ye lame, for joy ! Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. 12 FA V0R1 TE H YMNS IN VII. "OTV sweet the Name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear! It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast ; 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary rest. Dear Name ! the rock on which I build, My shield and hiding-place, My never-failing treasury, filled With boundless stores of grace, By Thee my prayers acceptance gain, Although with sin defiled ; Satan accuses me in vain, And I am owned a child. Jesus, my Shepherd, Husband, Friend, My Prophet, Priest, and King, My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End, Accept the praise I bring. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 13 Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought But when I see Thee as Thou art, I '11 praise Thee as I ought. Till then, I would Thy love proclaim AVith every fleeting breath ; And may the music of Thy Name Refresh my soul in death ! John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807. VIII. TTTHEN I survey the wondrous cross \ V On which the Prince of glory died, My richest gain I count but loss, And pour contempt on all my pride. Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast Save in the death of Christ, my God ; All the vain things that charm me most I sacrifice them to His blood. See from His head, His hands, His feet Sorrow and love flow mingled down ! Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown? 14 FAVORITE HYMNS IN His dying crimson like a robe, Spreads o'er his body on the tree : Then am I dead to all the globe, And all the globe is dead to me. Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small ; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all. Isaac Watts, 6. 1674, d. 1748. IX. JESUS I love Thy charming name, 'Tis music to mine ear : Fain would I sound it out so loud, That earth and heaven should hear. Yes Thou art precious to my soul, My transport and my trust: Jewels to Thee are gaudy toys, And gold is sordid dust. All my capacious powers can wish In Thee doth richly meet: Nor to mine eyes is light so dear, Nor friendship half so sweet. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 15 Thy grace still dwells upon my heart, And sheds its fragrance there ; The noblest balm of all its wounds, The cordial of its care. I'll speak the honors of Thy name, With my last laboring breath : Then speechless clasp Thee in my arms, The antidote of death. Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. LET me but hear my Saviour say Strength shall be equal to the day, Then I rejoice in deep distress, Leaning on all sufficient grace. I glory in infirmity, That Christ's own power may rest on me: When I am weak, then am I strong, Grace is my shield, and Christ my song. I can do all things, or can bear All sufferings, if my Lord be there ; Sweet pleasures mingle w T ith the pains, While His left hand my head sustains. 16 FAVORITE HYMXS IN But if the Lord be once withdrawn, And we attempt the work alone, When new temptations spring and rise, We find how great our weakness is. So Sampson, when his hair was lost, Met the Philistines to his cost : Shook his vain limbs with sad surprise, Made feeble fight and lost his eyes. Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. XL PLUNGED in a gulf of dark despair We wretched sinners lay, Without one cheerful beam of hope, Or spark of glimmering day. With pitying eyes the Prince of Grace Leheld our helpless grief: He saw, and oh ! amazing love ! ITe i an to our relief. Down from the shining seats above With joyful haste He fled ; Entered the grave in mortal flesh, And dwelt among the dead. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 17 He spoiled the powers of darkness thus, And broke our iron chains : Jesus has freed our captive souls From everlasting pains. In vain the baffled prince of hell II is cursed projects tries : We that were doomed his endless slaves, Are raised above the skies. Oh ! for this love, let rocks and hills Their lasting silence break, And all harmonious human tongues The Saviour's praises speak ! Yes we will praise thee, dearest Lord, Our souls are all on rlame : Hosanna round the spacious earth To thine adored name. Angels, assist our mighty joys ; Strike all your harps of gold ! But, when you raise your highest notes, His love can ne'er be told. Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1708. 1 8 FA YURI TE HYMNS IN XII. CHRIST the Lord is risen to-day, Sons of men and angels say : Raise your joys and triumphs high. Sing, ye heavens, and eanh reply. Love's redeeming work is done, Fought the fight, the batile won : Lo ! our Sun's eclipse is o'er; Lo ! He sets in blood no more. Vain the stone, the watch, the seal ; Christ hath burst the gates of hell ! Death in vain forbids His rise; Christ hath opened Paradise ! Lives again our glorious King : Where, Death is now thy sting ? Once He died, our souls to save ; A V here thy victory, Grave ? Soar we now where Christ has led, Following our exalted Head ; Made like Him, like Him we rise i Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, What though once we perished all, Partners in our parents' fall ? THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 19 Second life we all receive, In our Heavenly Adam live. Risen with Him, we upward move; Still we seek the things above ; Still pursue, and kiss the Son Seated on His Father's Throne. Scarce on earth a thought bestow, Dead to all we leave below ; Heaven our aim, and loved abode, Hid our life with Christ in God : Hid, till Christ our Life appear Glorious in His members here ; Joined to Him, we then shall shine, All immortal, all divine. Hail the Lord of Earth and Heaven ! Praise to Thee by both be given ! Thee we greet triumphant now ! Hail, the Resurrection Thou! King of glory, Soul of bliss ! Everlasting life is this, Thee to know, Thy power to prove, Thus to sing, and thus to love ! Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. 20 FAVORITE HYMNS IN XIII. JOIN all the glorious names Of wisdom, love, and power, That ever mortals knew, That angels ever bore ; All are too mean to speak His worth. Too mean to set my Saviour forth. But oh ! what gentle term^ What condescending ways, Doth our Redeemer use To teach His heavenly grace! Mine eyes with joy and wonder see What forms of love He bears for me. Arrayed in mortal flesh He like an Angel stands, And holds the promises And pardons in His hands; Commissioned from His Father's throne To make His grace to mortals known. Great Prophet of my God, My tongue would bless Thy Name; T»y Thee the joyful news Of our salvation came; The joyful news of sins forgiven, Of hell subdued, and peace with Heaven. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 21 Be Thon my Counsellor, My Pattern, and my Guide; And through this desert land Still keep me near Thy side : Oh, let my feet ne'er run astray, £sor rove, nor seek the crooked way I love my Shepherd's voice ; His watchful eyes shall keep My wandering soul among The thousands of His sheep ; He feeds His flock, He calls their names, His bosom bears the tender lambs. To this dear Surety's hand Will I commit my cause ; He answers and fulfils His Father's broken laws : Behold my soul at freedom set ; My Surety paid the dreadful debt, Jesus, my great High-Priest, Offered His Blood and died; My guilty conscience seeks No sacrifice beside : His powerful Blood did once atone, And now it pleads before the Throne, 22 FAVORITE HYMNS IN My advocate appears For my defence on high ; The Father bows His ears And lays His thunder by: Not that all hell or sin can say Shall turn His heart, His love away. My dear Almighty Lord, My Conqueror and my King, Thy sceptre and Thy s been my theme, And shaU be till I die. 3 8 FA VOR ITE H YMJN S IN Then in a nobler, sweeter song I '11 sing Th j power to save, When this poor lisping, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave Lord, I believe Thou hast prepared, Unworthy though I be, For me a blood-bought free reward, A golden harp for me : 'T is strung, and tuned for endless years, And formed by power divine. To sound in God the Father's ears No other Name but Thine. William Coivpcr, b. 1731, d. 1800. XXIV. ""DOCK of Ages, cleft for me, -*- ^ Let me hide myself in Thee ! Let the water and the blood. From Thy riven side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure. Cleanse me from its guilt and power. Not the labors of my hands Can fulfil Thy law's demands ; THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 39 Could my zeal no respite know, Could my tears forever flow, All for sin could not atone Thou must save, and Thou alone. Nothing in my hand I bring ; Simply to Thy Cross I cling ; Naked, come to Thee for dress ; Helpless, look to Thee for grace ; Foul, I to the Fountain fly ; Wash me, Saviour, or I die ! While I draw this fleeting breath, When my eyestrings break in death, When I soar through tracts unknown. See Thee on Thy judgment-throne ; Rock of Ages, clefc for me. Let me hide myself in Thee ! Augustus Montague Toplady, b< 1740, d. 1778. XXV. TTTHY do we mourn departing friends, V V Or shake at death's alarms ? 'Tis but the voice that Jesus sends To call them to His arms. 40 FA VORITE U YMNS IN Are we not tending upward too, As fast as time can move ? Nor would we wish the hours more slow To keep us from our love. Why should we tremble to convey Their bodies to the tomb ? There the dear flesh of Jesus lay, And left a long perfume. The graves of all His saints He blessed, And softened every bed : Where should the dying members rest, But with the dying head? Thence He arose, ascending high, And showed our feet the way; Up to the Lord our flesh shall fly At the great rising day. Then let the last loud trumpet sound, And bid our kindred rise : Awake, ye nations under ground ! Ye saints, ascend the skies ! Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 4 i XXYI. RISE, my soul, and stretch thy wings, Thy better portion trace ; Rise from transitory things Towards Heaven, thy native place. Sun and moon and stars decay ; Time shall soon this earth remove ; Rise, my soul, and haste away To seats prepare! above. Rivers to the ocean run, Nor stay in all their course ; Fire ascending seeks the sun ; Both speed them to their source : So my soul, derived from Gocl, Pants to view His glorious face, Forward tends to His abode, To rest in His embrace. Fly me Riches, fly me Cares, Whilst I that coast explore ; Flattering world, with all thy snares Solicit me no more ! Pilgrims fix not here their home : Strangers tarry but a night; When the last dear morn is come, They'll rise to joyful light. 42 FA VOUITE HYMNS IN Cease, ye pilgrims, cease to mourn 5 Press onward to the prize ; Soon our Saviour will return Triumphant in the skies. Yet a season, and you know Happy entrance will be given, All our sorrows left below, And earth exchanged for heaven. Robert Seagrave, b. 1693, d. unknown. XXVII. OUR God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home : Under the shadow of Thy Throne Thy saints have dwelt secure ; Sufficient is Thine arm alone, And our defence is sure. Before the hills in order stood, Or earth received her frame, From everlasting Thou art God, To endless years the same. Thy word commands our flesh to dust, a Keturn ye sons of men :" THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 43 All nations rose from earth at first, And turn to earth again. A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening gone ; Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun. The busy tribes of flesh and blood, With all their lives and cares, Are carried downwards by Thy flood, And lost in following years. Time, like an ever-rolling stream, Bears all its sons away ; They fly forgotten, as a dream Dies at the opening day. Like flowery fields the nations stand, Pleased with the morning light : The flowers, beneath the mower's hand, Lie withering ere 'tis nisdit. Our God, our help in ages past ; Our hope for years to come ; Be Thou our guard while troubles last, And our eternal home ! Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. 44 FA VORITE H YMNS IN XXVIII "T3RA.YER is the soul's sincere desire, -*- Uttered, or unexpressed ; The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast. Prayer is the burthen of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of the eye, When none but God is near. Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try ; Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high. Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice Re turning from his ways, "While angels in their songs rejoice, And cry, Behold, he prays ! Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, The Christian's native air ; His watchword at the gates of death; He enters Heaven with prayer. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 45 The saints, in prayer, appear as one In word, and deed, and mind ; While with the Father and the Son Sweet fellowship they find. Nor prayer is made by man alone : The Holy Spirit pleads ; And Jesus, on the eternal Throne, For mourners intercedes. Thou, by whom we come to God ! The Life, the Truth, the Way ! The path of prayer Thyself hast trod : Lord ! teach us how to pray ! James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. XXIX. TTTHEN all Thy mercies, O my God, V V My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise. O how shall words with equal warmth The gratitude declare, That glows within my ravished heart ! But Thou canst read it there. 46 FAVORITE HYMNS IN Thy Providence my life sustained, And all my wants redrest, When in the silent womb I lay, And hung upon the breast. To all my weak complaints and cries Thy mercy lent an ear, Ere yet my feeble thoughts had learnt To form themselves in prayer. Unnumbered comforts to my soul Thy tender care bestowed, Before my infant heart conceived From whence these comforts flowed. When in the slippery paths of youth With heedless steps I ran, Thine arm, unseen, conveyed me safe, And led me up to man. Through hidden clangers, toils, and death, It gently cleared my way ; And through the pleasing snares of vice, More to be feared than they. When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou With health renewed my face ; And, when in sins and sorrows sunk, Revived my soul with grace. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 47 Thy bounteous hand with worldly bliss Has made my cup run o'er ; And in a kind and faithful friend Has doubled all my store. Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart That tastes those gifts with joy. Through every period of my life Thy goodness I'll pursue ; And after death, in distant worlds, The glorious theme renew. When nature fails, and day and night Divide thy works no more, My ever-grateful heart, O Lord, Thy mercy shall adore. Through all eternity to Thee A joyful song I'll raise : But oh ! eternity's too short To utter all Thy praise ! Joseph Addison, b. 1672, d. 1719. 48 FA VORITE HYMNS IN XXX. 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 fiom 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 imnge in the glass Answers the beholder's face, Thus unto my heart appear, Print Thine own resemblance there. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 49 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. John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807. XXXI* MY faith looks up to Thee, Thou Lamb of Cavalry, Saviour divine ! Now hear me while I pray ; Take all my guilt away ; O let me from this day Be wholly Thine ! May Thy rich grace impart Strength to my fainting heart, My zeal inspire ! As Thou hast died for me, *The only change which I have met with in this hymn, is the substitution of distress for distrust in the last stanza. 50 FAVORITE HYMNS IN O may my love to Thee Pure, warm, and changeless be, A living fire ! While life's dark maze I tread, And griefs around me spread, Be Thou my Guide ! Bid darkness turn to day, "Wipe sorrow's tears away, Nor let me ever stray From Thee aside. When ends life's transient dream, When death's cold sullen stream Shall o'er me roll ; Blest Saviour ! then in love Fear and distrust remove % O bear me safe above, A ransomed soul ! Bay Palmer, b. 1808. XXXII. NOW it belongs not to my care Whether I die or live ; To love and serve Thee is my share, And this Thy grace must give. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 51 If death shall bruise this springing seed Before it comes to fruit, The will with Thee goes for the deed, Thy life was in the root. Would I long bear my heavy load, And keep my sorrows long ? Would I long sin against my God, And His dear mercy wrong ? How much is sinful flesh my foe, That doth my soul pervert To linger here in sin and woe, And steals from God my heart ! Christ leads me through no darker rooms Than He went through before ; He that unto God's Kingdom comes Must enter by this door. Come, Lord, when grace hath made me meet Thy blessed face to see ; For, if Thy work on earth be sweet. What will Thy glory be ? Then I shall end my sad complaints, And weary sinful days, And join with the triumphant saints That sing Jehovah's praise. 52 FAVORITE HYMNS IN My knowledge of that life is small ; The eye of faith is dim ; But it 's enough that Christ knows all, And I shall be with Him. Richard Baxter, b. 1615, d. 1691. XXXIII. OF OR an heart to praise my God, A heart from sin set free ! A heart that always feels Thy Blood, So freely spilt for me ! An heart resigned, submissive, meek, My dear Redeemer's throne ; Where only Christ is heard to speak, Where Jesus reigns alone. An humble, lowly, contrite heart, Believing, true, and clean : Which neither life nor death can part From Him that dwells within : An heart in every thought renewed, And full of love divine ; Perfect, and right, and pure, and good, A copy, Lord of Thine. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 53 My heart, Thou know'st, can never rest Till Thou create my peace : Till of my Eden re-possessed, From every sin I cease. Fruit of Thy gracious lips, on me Bestow that fruit unknown : The hidden manna, and the tree Of life and the white stone. Thy nature, gracious Lord, impart ; Come quickly from above ; Write Thy new Name upon my heart, Thy new, best Name of Love. Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. XXXIY. WHEN 1 survey life's varied scene, Amid the darkest hours Sweet rays of comfort shine between, And thorns are mixed with flow T ers. Lord, teach me to adore Thy hand, From whence my comforts flow, And let me in this desert land A glimpse of Canaan know. 54 FAVORITE HYMNS IN Is health and ease my happy share ! O may I bless my God ; Thy kindness let my songs declare, And spread Thy praise abroad. While such delightful gifts as these Are kindly lent to me, Be all my hours of health and ease Devoted, Lord, to Thee. In griefs and pains Thy sacred word, (Dear solace of my soul !) Celestial comforts can afford, And all their power control. When present sufferings pain my heart, Or future terrors rise, And light and hope almost depart From these dejected eyes : Thy powerful word supports my hope, Sweet cordial of the mind! And bears my fainting spirit up, And bids me wait resigned. And Oh! whate'er of earthly bliss Thy sovereign hand denies, Accepted at Thy throne of grace Let this petition rise : THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 5d Give me a calm, a thankful heart, From every murmur free ; The blessings of Thy grace impart, And let me live to Thee. Let the sweet hope that Thou art mine My path of life attend, Thy presence through my journey shine, And bless its happy end ! Anne Steele, b. 1717, d. 1778. XXXV. THY way, not mine, O Lord, However dark it be ! Lead me by Thine own hand, Choose out the path for me. Smooth let it be or rough, It will be still the best ; Winding or straight, it leads Right onw r ard to Thy rest. I dare not choose my lot ; I would not, if I might ; Choose Thou for me, my God ; So shall I walk aright. 56 FAVORITE HYMNS IN The kingdom that I seek Is Thine ; so let the way That leads to it be Thine ; Else I must surely stray. Take Thou my cup, and it With joy or sorrow fill, As best to Thee may seem ; Choose Thou my good and ill ; Choose Thou for me my friends, My sickness or my health ; Choose Thou my cares for me, My poverty or wealth. Not mine, not mine the choice, In things or great or small ; Be Thou my guide, my strength, My wisdom, and my all. Horatius Bonar, b. 1808. XXXYI. FATHER, I know that all my life Is portioned out for me, And the changes that are sure to come I do not fear to see ; But I ask Thee for a present mind, Intent on pleasing thee. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 57 I ask Thee for a thoughtful love, Through constant watching wise, To meet the glad with joyful smiles And wipe the weeping eyes ; And a heart at leisure from itself, To soothe and sympathize. I would not have the restless will That hurries to and fro ; Seeking for some great thing to do, Or secret thing to know : I would be treated as a child, And guided where I go. "Wherever in the world I am, In whatsoe'er estate, I have a fellowship with hearts To keep and cultivate, And a work of lowly love to do, For the Lord on whom I wait. So I ask Thee for the daily strength To none that ask denied, And a mind to blend with outward life, While keeping at Thy side ; Content to fill a little space, If Thou be glorified. 3* 58 FAVORITE HYMNS IN And if some things I do not ask In my cup of blessing be, I would have my spirit filled the more With grateful love to Thee ; More careful, not to serve Thee much, But to please Thee perfectly. There are briers besetting every path, That call for patient care ; There is a cross in every lot, And an earnest need for prayer ; But a lowly heart, that leans on Thee Is happy anywhere. In a service which Thy w r ill appoints There are no bonds for me ; For my inmost heart is taught the Truth That makes Thy children free ; And a life of self-renouncing love Is a life of liberty. Anna Lcetitia Waring, b. unknown* Q THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 59 XXXVIT. UIET, Lord, my fro ward heart, Make me teachable and mild, Upright, simple, free from art, Make me as a weaned child, From distrust and envy free, Pleased with all that pleases Thee. What Thou shalt to-day provide, Let me as a child receive ; What to-morrow may betide Calmly to Thy wisdom leave; 'Tis enough that Thou wilt care ; Why should I the burden bear ? As a little child relies On a care beyond his own, Knows he's neither strong nor wise, Fears to stir a step alone ; Let me thus with Thee abide, As my Father, Guard, and Guide. Thus, preserved from Satan's wiles, Safe from dangers, free from fears, May I live upon Thy smiles Till the promised hour appears, When the sons of God shall prove All their Father's boundless love ! John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807. 60 FA VORITE HYMNS IN xxxvni. JESUS, cast a look on me ; Give me sweet simplicity, Make me poor and keep me low, Seeking only Thee to know. Weaned from my lordly self, Weaned from the miser's pelf, Weaned from the scorner's ways, Weaned from the lust of praise. All that feeds my busy pride, Cast it evermore aside ; Bid my will to Thine submit ; - Lay me humbly at Thy feet. Make me like a little child, Of my strength and wisdom spoiled, Seeing only in Thy light, Walking only in Thy might, Leaning on Thy loving breast, Where a weary soul may rest ; Feeling well the peace of God Flowing from Thy gracious Blood ! THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 61 In this posture let me live. And hosannas daily give ; In this temper let me die, And hosannas ever cry ! John Berridge, b. 1716, d. 1793. XXXIX. THE Lord my Shepherd is, I shall be well supplied; Since He is mine, and I am His, What can I want beside ? He leads me to the place Where h avenly pasture grows, Where living waters gently pass, And full salvation flows. If e'er I go astray, He doth my soul reclaim, And guides me in His own right way For His most holy Name. While He affords His aid, I cannot yield to fear ; Though I should walk through death's dark shade, My Shepherd's with me there. 62 FA VOR1 TE H YMNS IN In spite of all my foes Thou dost my table spread ; My cup with blessings overflows, And joy exalts my head. The bounties of Thy love Shall crown my following days ; Nor from Thy house will I remove, Nor cease to speak Thy praise. Isaac Watts,b, 1614, d. 1748. XL. JESU, lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, "While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high! Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past, Safe into the haven guide ; receive my soul at last ! Other refuge have I none ; Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; Leave, ah ! leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me ! THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 63 All my trust on Thee is stayed, All my help from Thee I bring: Cover my defence 1 ess head With the shadow of Thy wing! Wilt Thou not regard my call ? Wilt Thou not accept my prayer ? Lo ! I sink, I faint, I fall ! Lo ! on Thee I cast my care ! Reach me out Thy gracious hand ! While I of Thy strength receive, Hoping against hope I stand, Dying, and behold I live ! Thou, O Christ, art all I want ; More than all in Thee I find : Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind ! Just and holy is Thy Name ; I am all unrighteousness ; False and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace. Plenteous grace with Thee is found, Grace to cover all my sin ; Let the healing streams abound ; Make and keep me pure within ! 64 FAVORITE HY1MNS IN Thou of Life the Fountain art, Freely let me take of Thee ; Spring Thou up within my heart ! Rise to all eternity ! Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788, XLI. CHRIST, whose glory fills the skies, Christ, the true, the only Light, Sun of Righteousness, arise, Triumph o'er the shades of night ! Day-spring from on high, be near ! Day-star, in my heart appear ! Dark and cheerless is the morn Unaccompanied by Thee ; Joyless is the day's return, Till Thy mercy's beams I see ; Till they inward light impart, Glad my eyes, and warm my heart. Visit then this soul of mine, Pierce the gloom of sin and grief! Fill me, Radiancy Divine, Scatter all my unbelief! More and more Thyself display, Shining to the perfect day ! Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1888. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 65 XLIL* ALL praise to Thee, my God, this night, For all the blessings of the light ; Keep me, O keep me, King of kings, Beneath Thine own Almighty wings ! Forgive me, Lord, for Thy dear Son, The ill that I this day have done ; That with the world, myself, and Thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed ! To die, that this vile body may Rise glorious at the awful day ! O may my soul on Thee repose ; And may sweet sleep mine eyelids close ; Sleep, that may me more vigorous make To serve my God when I awake ! When in the night I sleepless lie, My soul with heavenly thoughts supply ! Let no ill dreams disturb my rest, No powers of darkness me molest! * It is impossible for me to determine whether Ken originally began this hymn with the words All praise, or with the word Glory. The best authori- ties are divided. 66 FA VORITE HYMNS IN Dull sleep, of sense me to deprive ! I am but half my time alive : Thy faithful lovers, Lord, are grieved To lie so long of Thee bereaved. But though sleep o'er my frailty reigns, Let it not hold me long in chains ! And now and then let loose my heart, Till it an hallelujah dart ! The faster sleep the senses binds, The more unfettered are our minds ; O may my soul, from matter free, Thy loveliness unclouded see ! O when shall I, in endless day, Forever chase dark sleep away, And hymns with the supernal choir Incessant sing, and never tire? O may my Guardian, while I sleep, Close to my bed his vigils keep ; His love angelical instil ; Stop all the avenues of ill ; May he celestial joy rehearse, And thought to thought with me converse ; Or in my stead, all the night long, Sing to my God a grateful song ! THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 67 Praise Gocf, from whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below ! Praise Him above, ye heavenly host ! Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost ! Bishop Thames Ken, b. 1637, d. 1711. XLIII. SUN of my soul, Thou Saviour clear, It is not night if Thou be near ; Oh ! may no earth-born cloud arise To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes ! "When round Thy wondrous works below My searching rapturous glance I throw, i Tracing out wisdom, power, and love, In earth or sky, in stream or grove ; Or, by the light Thy words disclose, Watch time's full river as it flows, Scanning Thy gracious Providence, Where not too deep for mortal sense ; When with dear friends sweet talk I hold, And all the flowers of life unfold ; Let not my heart within me burn, Except in all I Thee discern ! 68 FA VORITE HYMNS IN When the soft dews of kindly sleep My wearied eyelids gently steep, Be my last thought, how sweet to rest Forever on my Saviour's breast ! Abide with me from morn till eve, For without Thee I cannot live ! Abide with me when night is nigh, For without Thee I dare not die ! Thou Framer of the light and dark, Steer through the tempest Thine own ark ! Amid the howling, wintry sea "We are in port if we have Thee. The rulers of this Christian land, 'Twixt Thee and us ordained to stand, Guide Thou their course, O Lord, aright! Let all do all as in Thy sight ! Oh ! by Thine own sad burthen, borne So meekly up the hill of scorn, Teach Thou Thy priests their daily cross To bear as Thine, nor count it loss ! If some poor wandering child of Thine Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine ; Now, Lord, the gracious work begin ; Let him no more lie down in sin ! THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. G9 Watch by the sick, enrich the poor With blessings from Thy boundless store ! Be every mourner's sleep to night Like infant's slumbers, pure and light ! Come ne?4" and bless us when we wake, Ere through the world our way we take : 'Till, in the ocean of Thy love, We lose ourselves in Heaven above ! John Keble, b. 1792, d. 1866. XLIV. SWEET is the work, my God, my King, To praise Thy Name, give thanks and sing, To show Thy love by morning light, And talk of all Thy truth at night. Sweet is the day of sacred rest ; No mortal cares shall seize my breast : O may my heart in tune be found, Like David's harp of solemn sound ! My heart shall triumph in my Lord, And bless His works, and bless His word : Thy works of grace, how bright they shine ! How deep Thy counsels, how divine ! 70 FAVORITE HYMNS IN Fools never raise their thoughts so high ; Like brutes they live, like brutes they die ; Like grass they flourish, till Thy breath Blast them in everlasting death. But I shall share a glorious part, When grace hath well refined my heart, And fresh supplies of joy are shed, Like holy oil to cheer my head. Sin, (my worst enemy before.) Shall vex my eyes and ears no more ; My inward foes shall all be slain, £sor Satan break my peace again. Then shall I see and hear and know All I desired and wished below, And every power find sweet employ In that eternal world of joy ! Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. XLV. COME, O thou Traveller unknown, Whom still I hold, but cannot see, My company before is gone, And I am left alone with Thee ! With Thee all night I mean to stay, And wrestle till the break of day, THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 71 I need not tell Thee who I am, My misery or sin declare ; Thyself hast called me by my name ; Look on Thy hands, and read it there ! But Who, I ask Thee, Who art Thou ? Tell me Thy Name, and tell me now. In vain Thou strugglest to get free, I never will unloose my hold ; Art Thou the Man that died for me ? The secret of Thy love unfold. Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal Thy new, unutterable Name! Tell me, I still beseech Thee, tell ; To know it now, resolved I am : Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 'T is all in vain to hold Thy tongue, Or touch the hollow of my thigh ; Though every sinew be unstrung, Out of my arms Thou shalt not fly ; Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 72 FAVORITE HYMNS IN What though my shrinking flesh complain, And murmur to contend so long ? I rise superior to my pain ; When I am weak, then I am strong: And when my all of strength shall fail, I shall with the God -Man prevail. My strength is gone ; my nature dies ; I sink beneath Thy weighty hand, Faint to revive, and fall to rise ; I fall, and yet by faith I stand : I stand, and will not let Thee go, Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. Yield to me now, for I am weak, But confident in self-despair ; Speak to my heart, in blessings speak, Be conquered by my instant prayer ! Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move, And tell me, if Thy Name is Love ? 'T is Love ! 't is Love ! Thou diedst for me ! I hear Thy whisper in my heart ! The morning breaks, the shadows flee ; Pure universal Love Thou art ! To me, to all, Thy bowels move ! Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love ! THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 73 My prayer hath power with God ; the grace Unspeakable I now receive ; Through faith I see Thee face to face, I see Thee face to face, and live : In vain I have not wept and strove ; Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love. I know Thee, Saviour, who Thou art ; Jesus, the feeble sinner's Friend I Nor wilt Thou with the night depart, But stay, and love me to the end! Thy mercies never shall remove, Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love! The Sun of Righteousness on me Hath rose, with healing in His wings ; Withered my nature's strength, from Thee My soul its life and succor brings ; My help is all laid up above ; Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love. Contented now upon my thigh I halt, till life's short journey end ; All helplessness, all weakness, I On Thee alone for strength depend ; Nor have I power from Thee to move ; Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love. 4 FAVORITE HYMNS IN Lame as I am, I take the prey, Hell, earth, and sin, with ease o'ercome ; I leap for joy, pursue my way, And as a bounding hart fly home ! Through ail eternity to prove, Thy Nature, arid Thy Name, is Love ! Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. XLVL JESUS, I my cross have taken, All to leave, and follow Thee ; Destitute, despised, forsaken, Thou, from hence, my all shalt be : Perish every fond ambition, All I've sought, or hoped, or known ; Yet how rich is my condition ! God and Heaven are still my own ! Let the world despise and leave me, They have left my Saviour too ; Human hearts and looks deceive me; Thou art not, like them, untrue : And, while Thou shalt smile upon me, God of wisdom, love, and might, Foes may hate, and friends may shun me ; Show Thy face, and all is bright ! THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 75 Go, then, earthly fame and treasure ! Come, disaster, scorn, and pain ! In Thy service, pain is pleasure, With Thy favor, loss is gain ! I have called Thee, Abba, Father ! I have stayed my heart on Thee ! Storms may howl, and clouds may gather, All must work for good to me. Man may trouble and distress me, 'Twill but drive me to Thy breast ; Life with trials hard may press me, Heaven will bring me sweeter rest ! O, 'tis not in grief to harm me, While Thy love is left to me ! O, 't were not in joy to charm me, Were that joy unmixed with Thee ! Take, my soul, thy full salvation ; Rise o'er sin, and fear, and care ; Joy to find, in every station, Something still to do or bear : Think what l>pirit dwells within thee ! What a Father's smile is thine ! What a Saviour died to win thee ! Child of Heaven, shouldst thou repine ? 76 FA VORITE H YMNS IN Haste then on from grace to glory, Armed by faith, and winged by prayer ; Heaven's eternal clay's before thee, God's own hand shall guide thee there! Soon shall close thy earthly mission, Swift shall pass thy pilgrim days; Hope soon change to glad fruition, Faith to sight, and prayer to praise ! Henry Francis Lyte, b. 1793, d. 1847. XL VII. ABIDE with me ! fast falls the even-tide ; The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide \ When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me! Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; Earth's joys grow dim ; its glories pass away ; Change and decay in all around I see ; Thou, who changes t not, abide with me ! Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word ; But, as Thou dwell'st with Thy disciples, Lord, Familiar, condescending, patient, free, Come, not to sojourn, but abide, with me ! THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 77 Come not in terrors, as the King of kings ; But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings ; Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea ; Come, Friend of sinners, and thus 'bide with me ! Thou on my head in early youth didst smile ; And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile, Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee. On to the close, O Lord, abide with me ! I need Thy Presence every passing hour : What but Thy grace can foil the Tempter's power ? "Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be ? Through cloud and sunshine, O abide with me ! I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless : Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness : Where is death's sting ? where, Grave, thy victory ? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me ! Hold then Thy cross before my closing eyes ! Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies ! Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee; In life and death, O Lord, abide with me ! Henry Francis Lyte,b. 1793, d. 1847. 78 FAVORITE HYMNS IN XL Yin. COMMIT thou all thy griefs And ways into His hands, To His sure Truth and tender care, Who earth and Heaven commands. Who points the clouds their course, Whom winds and seas obey, He shall direct thy wandering feet, He shall prepare thy way. Thou on the Lord rely ; So safe shalt thou go on ; Fix on His work thy steadfast eye, So shall thy work be done. No profit canst thou gain By self-consuming care ; To Him commend thy cause ; His ear Attends the softest prayer. Thy everlasting Truth, Father ! Thy ceaseless love, Sees all Thy children's wants, and knows What best for each will prove. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 79 And whatsoe'er Thou will'st Thou dost, King of kings ; What Thy unerring wisdom chose, Thy Power to being brings. Thou everywhere hast sway, And all things serve Thy might ; Thy every act pure blessing is, Thy path unsullied light. When Thou arisest, Lord, Who shall Thy work withstand ? When all Thy children want Thou giv'st, Who, who shall stay Thy hand ? Give to the winds thy fears ; Hope, and be undismayed ; God hears thy sighs, and counts thy tears, God shall lift up thy head. Through waves and clouds and storms, He gently clears thy way ; Wait thou His time ; so shall this night Soon end in joyous day. Still heavy is thy heart ? Still sink thy spirits down ? Cast off the weight, let fear depart, And every care be gone. 80 FA VORITE HYMNS IN What though thou rulest not? Yet Heaven and earth and hell Proclaim, God sitteth on the Throne, And ruleth all things well ! Leave to His sovereign sway To choose and to command; So shalt thou wondering own, His way How wise, how strong His hand ! Far, far above thy thought His counsel shall appear, When fully He the work hath wrought That caused thy needless fear. Thou seest our weakness, Lord ! Our hearts are known to Thee : Oh ! lift Thou up the sinking hand, Confirm the feeble knee ! Let us, in life, in death, Thy steadfast Truth declare, And publish, with our latest breath, Thy love and guardian care ! John Wesley, b. 1703, d. 1791. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 81 XLIX. TOUR harps, ye trembling saints, Down from the willows take ; Loud to the praise of Love divine, Bid every string awake. Though in a foreign land, We are not far from home ; And nearer to our house above We every moment come. His Grace will to the end Stronger and brighter shine ; Nor present things, nor things to come, Shall quench the spark divine. Fastened within the vail, Hope be your anchor strong ; His loving Spirit the sweet gale That wafts you smooth along. Or, should the surges rise, And peace delay. to come, Blest is the sorrow, kind the storm, That drives us nearer home. 4* 82 FA VORITE HYMNS IN The people of His choice He will not cast away ; Yet do not always here expect On Tabor's mount to stay. When we in darkness walk, Nor feel the heavenly flame, Then is the time to trust our God, And rest upon His Name. Soon shall our doubts and fears Subside at His control ; His loving-kindness shall break through The midnight of the soul. No wonder, when His Love Pervades your kindling breast, You wish forever to retain The heart-transporting Guest. Yet learn, in every state, To make His will your own ; And, when the joys of sense depart, To walk by faith alone. By anxious fear depressed, When from the deep ye mourn, " Lord, why so hasty to depart, So tedious in return ? " THEJR ORIGINAL FORM. 83 Still on His plighted Love At all events rely ; The very hidings of His face Shall train thee up to joy. Wait, till the shadows flee ; Wait thy appointed hour ; Wait, till the Bridegroom of thy soul Reveal His Love with power. The time of Love will come, When thou shalt clearly see, Not only that He shed His Blood, But that it flowed for thee ! Tarry His leisure, then, Although He seem to stay ; A moment's intercourse with Him Thy grief will overpay. Blest is the man, O God, That stays himself on Thee ! Who wait for Thy salvation, Lord, Shall Thy salvation see ! Augustus Montague Toplady, b. 1740, d. 1778. 84 FAVORITE HYMNS IN L. FOREVER with the Lord ! Amen ! so let it be ! Life from the dead is in that word, 'T is immortality ! Here in the body pent, Absent from Him I roam, Yet nightly pitch my moving tent A day's march nearer home. My Father's house on high, Home Of my soul! how near, At times, to faith's far-seeing eye, Thy golden gates appear . Ah ! then my spirit faints To reach the land I love, The bright inheritance of saints, Jerusalem above ! Yet clouds will intervene, And all my prospect flies ; Like Noah's dove, I flit between Rough seas and stormy skies. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 85 Anon the clouds depart, The winds and waters cease ; While sweetly o'er my gladdened heart Expands the bow of peace ! Beneath its glowing arch, Along the hallowed ground, I see cherubic armies march, A camp of fire around. I hear at morn and even, At noon and midnight hour, The choral harmonies of Heaven Earth's Babel tongues o'erpower. Then, then I feel, that He, Remembered or forgot, The Lord, is never far from me, Though I perceive Plim not. James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. LI. SONGS of praise the angels sang, Heaven with hallelujahs rang, When Jehovah's work begun, When He spake and it was done. 86 FA VORITE H YMNS IN Songs of praise awoke the morn, When the Prince of Peace was born ; Songs of praise awoke when He Captive led captivity. Heaven and earth must pass away, Songs of praise shall crown that day ; God will make new heavens, new earth, Songs of praise shall hail their birth. And can man alone be dumb, Till that glorious kingdom come ? No : the Church delights to raise Psalms, and hymns, and songs of praise. Saints below, with heart and voice, Still in songs of praise rejoice, Learning here, by faith and love, Songs of praise to sing above. Borne upon their latest breath, Songs of praise shall conquer death ; Then, amidst eternal joy, Songs of praise their powers employ. James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM 87 LII. FRIEND after friend departs; Who hath not lost a friend? There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end : Were this frail world our only rest, Living or dying, none were blest. Beyond the flight of time, Beyond this vale of death, There surely is some blessed clime, Where life is not a breath, Nor life's affections transient fire, Whose sparks fly upwards to expire. There is a world above, Where parting is unknown; A whole eternity of love, Formed for the good alone : And faith beholds the dying here Translated to that happier sphere. Thus star by star declines Till all are passed away, As morning high and higher shines To pure and perfect day ; Nor sink those stars in empty night; They hide themselves in heaven's own light. James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. 88 FAVORITE HYMNS IN LIIL COME, let us join our cheerful songs With angels round the Throne ; Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one. Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry, " To be exalted thus ! " " Worthy the Lamb ! " our lips reply, " For He was slain for us." Jesus is worthy to receive Honor and power divine, And blessings, more than we can give, Be, Lord, forever Thine, Let all that dwell above the sky, And air, and earth, and seas, Conspire to lift Thy glories high, And speak Thine endless praise. The whole Creation join in one To bless the sacred Name Of Him, that sits upon the Throne, And to adore the Lamb ! Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 89 LIV. TUST as I am, without one plea But that Thy Blood was shed for me, And that Thou bidd'st me come to Thee, O Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am, and waiting not To rid my soul of one dark blot, To Thee, whose Blood can cleanse each spot, O Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am, though tossed about With many a conflict, many a doubt, Fightings and fears within, without, O Lamb of Gocl, I come ! Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind, Sight, riches, healing of the mind, Yea, all I need, in Thee to find, O Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am, Thou wilt receive, Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve ! Because Thy promise I believe, O Lamb of God, I come ! 90 FAVORITE HYMNS IN Just as I am, (Thy Love unknown Has broken every barrier down,) Now, to be Thine, yea, Thine alone, O Lamb of God, I come ! Just as I am, of that free love The breadth, length, depth, and height to prove, Here for a season, then above, O Lamb of God, I come ! Charlotte Elliott, b. 1789, d. 1871. LV. HOW gentle God's commands, How kind His precepts are ! Come, cast your burdens on the Lord, And trust His constant care. While Providence supports, Let saints securely dwell ; That Hand, which bears all Nature up, Shall guide His children well. Why should this anxious load Press down your weary mind ? Haste to your Heavenly Father's throne, And sweet refreshment find. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 91 His goodness stands approved Down to the present day ; I'll drop my burden at His feet, And bear a song away. Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. LVI. THERE is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign, Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. There everlasting spring abides, And never withering flowers ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours. Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Stand dressed in living green : So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between. But timorous mortals start and shrink To cross this narrow sea, And linger shivering on the brink, And fear to launch away. 92 FAVORITE HYMNS IN O, could we make our doubts remove, These gloomy doubts that rise, And see the Canaan that we love With unbeclouded eyes, — Could we but climb where Moses stood; And view the landscape o'er, — Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood, Should fright us from the shore. Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. LYII. ALL hail the power of Jesus' name! Let angels prostrate fall ; Bring forth the royal diadem, And crown Him Lord of all ! Let high-born seraphs tune the lyre, And, as they tune it, fall Before His face, who tunes their choir, And crown Him Lord of all ! Crown Him, ye morning stars of light, Who fixed this floating ball ; Now hail the strength of Israel's might, And crown Him Lord of all ! Crown Him, ye morning stars of light ! He fixed this floating ball ; THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 93 Now hail the strength of Israel's might, And crown Him Lord of all ! Crown Him, ye martyrs of our God, Who from His altar call ! Extol the Stem of Jesse's rod, And crown Him Lord of all ! Ye seed of Israel's chosen race, Ye ransomed of the fall, Hail Him who saved you by His grace, And crown Him Lord of all ! Hail Him, ye heirs of David's line, Whom David Lord did call ; The God incarnate, Man Divine, And crown Him Lord of all ! Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget The wormwood and the gall, Go spread your trophies at His feet, And crown Him Lord of all ! Let every tribe and every tongue That hear the Saviour's call, Now shout in universal song, And crown Him Lord of all ! Rev. Edward Peironet, d. 1792. 94 FA VORITE H YMNS IN LVIII. LOVE Divine, all loves excelling, Joy of Heaven, to earth come down, Fix in us Thy humble dwelling, All Thy faithful mercies crown. Jesus, Thou art all compassion, — Pure, unbounded love Thou art ; Visit us with Thy salvation, Enter every trembling heart. Breathe, O breathe Thy loving Spirit Into every troubled breast ! Let us all in Thee inherit, Let us find that second rest. Take away the love of sinning; Alpha and Omega be ; End of faith, as its beginning, Set our hearts at liberty. Come, Almighty to deliver ! Let us all Thy life receive ; Suddenly return, and never, Never more Thy temples leave. Thee we would be always blessing, Serve Thee as Thy host above ; Pray, and praise Thee without ceasing, Glory in Thy perfect love. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 95 Finish, then, Thy new creation ; Pure and spotless let it be ; Let us see Thy great salvation Perfectly secured by Thee, — Changed from glory into glory, Till in heaven we take our place, — Till we cast our crowns before Thee, Lost in wonder, love, and praise ! Charles Wesley, b. 1708, d. 1788. LIX. ONE there is, above all others, Well deserves the name of friend ; His is love beyond a brother's, Costly, free, and knows no end : They who once His kindness prove, Find it everlasting love. Which of all our friends to save us, Could or would have shed their blood ? But our Jesus died to have us Reconciled in Him to God : This was boundless love indeed, Jesus is a friend in need. Men, when raised to lofty stations, Often know their friends no more; 96 FAVORITE HYMNS IX Slight and scorn their poor relations, . Though they valued them before : But our Saviour always owns Those w T hom He redeemed with groans. When He lived on earth abased, Friend of sinners was His name ; Now, above all glory raised, He rejoices in the same : Still He calls them brethren, friends, And to all their wants attends. Could we bear from one another What He daily bears from us ? Yet this glorious Friend and Brother Loves us, though we treat him thus : Though for good we render ill, He accounts us brethren still. Oh ! for grace our hearts to soften ; Teach us, Lord, at length to love. We, alas, forget too often What a Friend we have above ; But, when home our souls are brought, We will love Thee as we ought. John Neiv^n, b. 1725, d. 1807. THEIR ORIGINAL FORZL 97 LX. SING to the Lord with joyful voice ; Let ev'ry land His name adore ; The northern isles shall send the noise Across the ocean to the shore. Nations attend before His throne With solemn fear, with sacred joy : Know that the Lord is Gocl alone ; He can create, and He destroy. Before Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations, bow with sacred joy : Know that the Lord is God alone ; He can create, and He destroy. His sovereign power, without our aid, Made us of clay, and formed us men ; And when, like wand'ring sheep, we strayed, He brought us to His fold again. We are His people, we His care, Our souls, and all our mortal frame ; What lasting honors shall we rear, Almighty Maker, to Thy name ? 5 98 FA VORITE HYMNS IN We'll crowd Thy gates with thankful songs, High as the heavens our voices raise ; And earth, with her ten thousand tongues, Shall fill Thy courts with sounding praise. Wide as the world is Thy command, Vast as eternity, Thy love : Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand, When rolling years shall cease to move. Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. LXI. TRIUMPHANT Zion ! lift thy head From dust and darkness and the dead ; Though humbled long, awake at length, And gird thee with thy Saviour's strength. Put all thy beauteous garments on, And let thy various charras be known : The world thy glories shall confess, Decked in the robes of righteousness. No more shall foes unclean invade, And fill thy hallowed walls with dread ; No more shall hell's insulting host Their vict'ry and thy sorrows boast. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 99 God, from on high, thy groans will hear; His hand thy ruins shall repair; Reared and adorned by love Divine, Thy towers and battlements shall shine. Grace shall dispose my heart and voice To share and echo back her joys : Nor w^ill her watchful Monarch cease To guard her in eternal peace. Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. LXII. GOD is the refuge of His saints, When storms of sharp distress invade ; Ere we can offer our complaints, Behold Him present with His aid. Let mountains from their seats be hurled Down to the deep, and buried there ; Convulsions shake the solid world ; Our faith shall never yield to fear. Loud may the troubled ocean roar ; In sacred peace our souls abide ; While every nation, every shore, Trembles and dreads the swelling tide. 100 FAVORITE HYMNS IN There is a stream, whose gentle flow Supplies the city of our God, Life, love, and joy, still gliding through, And watering our divine abode. That sacred stream, Thine holy word, That all my raging fear controls : Sweet peace Thy promises afford, And give new strength to fainting souls. Zion enjoys her Monarch's love, Secure against a threatening hour ; Nor can her firm foundations move, Built on His truth and armed with power. Isaac Watts, b. 1674, d. 1748. LXin. AMAZING grace! (how sweet the sound !) That saved a wretch like me ; I once was lost, but now am found, Was blind, but now I see. 'T was grace that taught my heart to fear, And grace my fears relieved : How precious did that grace appear, The hour I first believed ! THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 101 Through many clangers, toils, and snares, T have already come ; 'T is grace has brought me safe thus far, And grace will lead me home. The Lord has promised good to me, His word my hope secures : He will my shield and portion be As long as life endures. Yes ! when this flesh and heart shall fail, And mortal life shall cease, I shall possess, within the veil, A life of joy and peace. The earth shall soon dissolve like snow, The sun forbear to shine : But God, who called me here below, Will be forever mine. John Newton, b. 1725, d. 1807 Lxm. OH, help us, Lord ! — each hour of need Thy heavenly succor give ; Help us in thought, and word, and deed, Each hour on earth we live. 102 FAVORITE HYMNS IN Oh, help us when our spirits bleed, With contrite anguish sore ; And when our hearts are cold and dead, Oh, help us, Lord, the more ! Oh, help us through the prayer of faith, More firmly to believe ! For still the more the servant hath, The more shall he receive. If strangers to Thy fold we call, Imploring at Thy feet The crumbs that from Thy table fall, 'T is all we dare entreat. But be it, Lord of mercy, all, So Thou wilt grant but this : The crumbs that from Thy table fall, Are life, and light, and bliss. Oh, help us, Jesus ! from on "high ; We know no help but Thee ; Oh, help us so to live and die, As thine in heaven to be ! Henry Hart Milman, b. 1791, d. 1868. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM* 103 LXIV. e1 OW in the morn thy seed, J At eve hold not thy hand ; To doubt and fear give thou no heed ; Broad-cast it o'er the land ! Beside all waters sow, The highway furrows stock, Drop it where thorns and thistles grow, Scatter it on the rock. The good, the fruitful ground, Expect not here nor there, O'er hill and dale, by plots, 't is found, Go forth, then, everywhere. Thou know'st not which may thrive, The late or early sown : Grace keeps the precious germs alive, When and wherever strown. Then duly shall appear, In verdure, beauty, strength, The tender blade, the stalk, the ear, And the full corn at length. 104 FA VORITE H YMNS IN Thou canst not toil in vain ; Cold, heat, and moist and dry Shall foster and mature the grain For garners in the sky. Thence, when the glorious end, The day of God, is come, The angel reapers shall descend, And Heaven cry — Harvest-home ! James Montgomery, b. 1771, d. 1854. LXV. HARK ! the herald angels sing, " Glory to the new-born King ! Peace on earth, and mercy mild ; God to man is reconciled." Joyful, all ye nations, rise ; Join the triumphs of the skies ; With th' angelic host proclaim, " Christ is born in Bethlehem." Christ, by highest heaven adored ; Christ, the everlasting Lord : Late in time behold Him come, Offspring of a Virgin's womb. THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. 105 Veiled in flesh the Godhead see ! Hail the incarnate Deity ! Pleased as man with man to appear, Jesus, our Immanuel here ! Hail, the heaven-born Prince of Peace ! Hail, the Sun of Righteousness ! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings. Mild He lavs His glory by ; Born that man no more may die ; Born to raise the sons of earth ; Born to give them second birth. Bishop Reginald Heber, b. 1783, d. 1826. LXVI. SEE Israel's gentle Shepherd stands With all-engaging charms ; Hark, how He calls the tender lambs, And f jlds them in His arms ! " Permit them to approach,'' He cries, " Nor scorn their humble name ; For 't was to bless such souls as these, The Lord of angels came." 5* 106 THEIR ORIGINAL FORM. We bring them, Lord, in thankful hands, And yield them up to Thee ; Joyful that we ourselves are Thine, — Thine let our offspring be. Ye little flock, with pleasure hear ; Ye children, seek His face ; And fly with transport to receive The blessings of His grace. If orphans they are left behind, Thy guardian care we trust : •That care shall heal our bleeding hearts, If weeping o'er their dust. Philip Doddridge, b. 1702, d. 1751. INDEX OF FIRST LINES. PAGE. Abide with me ! fast falls the even tide. — Henry Francis Lyte. 76 All hail the power of Jesus' name. — Rev. Edward Perronet. 92 All praise to Thee, my God, this night. — Bishop Thomas Ken. 65 Amazing grace ! (how sweet the sound !) — John Newton. 100 As when the weary traveller gains. — John Newton. 6 Christ the Lord is risen to-day. — Charles Wesley. 18 Christ, whose glory fills the skies. — Charles Wesley. 64 Come, Holy Spirit, come. — Joseph Hart. 28 Come, let us join our cheerful songs. — Isaac Watts. 88 Come, my soul, thy suit prepare. — John Newton. 48 Come, O thou Traveller unknown. — Charles Wesley. 70 Come, we that love the Lord. — Isaac Watts. 32 Commit thou all thy griefs. — John Wesley. 78 Father, I know that all my life. — Anna Loetitia Waring. 56 Forever with the Lord. — James Montgomery. 84 Friend after friend departs. — James Montgomery. 87 From Greenland's icy mountains. — Bishop Reginald Heber. 27 Glorious things of Thee are spoken. — John Newton. 30 God is the refuge of His saints. — Isaac Watts. 99 Hail to the Lord's Anointed. — James Montgomery. 23 Hark! the herald angels sing. — Bishop Reginald Heber. 104 How gentle God's commands.— Philip Doddridge. 90 How sweet the name of Jesus sounds. — John Neivton. 12 Jesu, lover of my soul. — Charles Wesley. 62 Jesus, cast a look on me. — John Berridge. 60 (107) 108 INDEX OF FIRST LINES* PAGE. Jesus, I love Thy charming name. — Phihp Doddridge. 74 Jesus, I my cross have taken. — Henry Francis Lyte. 74 Jesus shall reign where'er the sun. — Isaac Watts. 25 Jesus, where'er Thy people meet. — William Cowper. 34 Join all the glorious names. — Isaac Watts. 20 Just as I am, without one plea. — Charlotte Elliott. 89 Let me but hear my Saviour say. — Isaac Watts. 15 Love Divine, all loves excelling. — Charles Wesley. 94 My faith looks up to Thee. — Ray Palmer. 49 My soul, repeat His praise. — Isaac Watts. 35 Not all the blood of beasts. — Isaac Watts. 10 Oh, help us, Lord ! — each hour of need. — Henry Hart Milman. 1 01 O for a heart to praise my God. — Charles Wesley. 52 O for a thousand tongues to sing. — Charles Wesley. 11 God of Jacob, by whose hand. — Philip Doddridge. 5 One sweetly solemn thought. — Phoebe Cary. 8 One there is above all others. — John Newton. 95 Our God, our help in ages past.— Isaac Watts. 42 Plunged in a gulf of dark despair. — Isaac Watts. 16 Prayer is the soul's sincere desire. — James Montgomery. 44 Quiet, Lord, my froward heart. — John Newton. 59 Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings. — Robert Seagrave. 41 See Israel's gentle Shepherd stands. — Philip Doddridge. 105 Sing to the Lord with joyful voice. — Isaac Watts. 97 Songs of praise the angels sang. — James Montgomery. 85 Sow in the morn thy seed. — James Montgomery. 103 Sun of my soul, Thou Saviour dear. — John Keble. 67 Sweet is the work, my God, my King. — Isaac Watts. 69 The Lord my Shepherd is. — Isaac Watts. 61 There is a fountain filled with blood. — Augustus Montague 7 Toplady. 37 There is a land of pure delight. — Isaac Watts. 91 Thy way, not mine, O Lord. — Horahus Bonar. 55 INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 109 PAGE. Triumphant Zion ! lift thy head. — Philip Doddridge. 98 *T is my happiness below. — William Coiuper. 7 When all Thy mercies, O my God. — Joseph Addison. 45 "When I survey life's varied scenes. — Anne Steele. 53 When I survey the wondrous cross. — Isaac Watts: 13 Why do we mourn departing friends. — Isaac Watts. 39 Ye servants of the Lord. — Philip Doddridge. 31 Your harps ye trembling saints. — Augustus Montague Toplady. , 81 BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX. Addisov, Joseph, son of the Rev. Lancelot Addison, Rector of Milston, afterwards Dean of Litchfield ; born at Milston rec- tory, near Araesbuiy, in Wiltshire, 1 May, 1672 ; was made Sec- retary of State, 1717; died 17 June, 1719. His hymns appeared in the Saturday papers of the Spectator during 1712. Berridge, John, son of a wealthy farmer; born at Kingston, Nottinghamshire, 1 March, 1716; became Vicar of Everton, 1755; died 22 January, 1793. His hymns, which were often adaptations of others already in existence, appeared in " Sion's Songs • or Hymns Composed for the Use of them that love and follow the Lord Jesus Christ in Sincerity" (1785). Bonar, Horatius, D. D., son of James Bonar; born at Edin- burgh, 19 December, 1808; Minister of the Erse Church of Scotland at Kelso, and now at Grange, Edinburgh. His hymns appeared in " Hymns of Eaith and Hope," 1st Series, 1857 ; 2d Series, 1861 ; 3d Series, 1866. Car y, Phcebe, born in Hamilton County, Ohio, in 1825; died at Newport, R. I., 31 July, 1871. Her " Poems and Parodies" were published in 1854. Cowper, William, of the Inner Temple, son of the Rev. John Cowper, D. D., Rector of Berkhampstead, Hertfordshire; bora at the Rectory, 15 November, 1731 ; died at East Dereham, 25 April, 1800. He united with Newton in writing the " Olney Hymns" (1779), to which he contributed 67 out of 340. (Ill) 112 BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX. Doddridge, Philip, D. D., son of an oilman in London ; born in London, 26 June, 1702; Pastor of the Congregational Church at Northampton, and Principal of the Theological Acad- emy there; died at Lisbon, 26 October, 1751. His hymns were circulated in manuscript during his life, but it was not till 1755 that they were published, 364 in all, as " Hymns Founded on Va- rious Texts in the Holy Scriptures." Hart, Joseph, the son of pious parents ; born in London, 1712; Minister of the Congregational Church in Jewin Street Chapel, London ; died in London, 24 May, 1768. His "Hymns Composed on Various Subjects" appeared in 1759 (second edi- tion, with Supplement, 1762). Heber, Reginald, D. D., son of Reginald Heber, Rector of Malpas, Cheshire; born at Malpas, 21 April, 1783; Bishop of Calcutta, 1823 ; died at Trichinopoly, 2 April, 1826. His hymns appeared in the Christian Observer (1811), "Hymns Written and Adapted to the Weekly Church Service of the Year" (1827), ed- ited by his widow; and were collected (to the number of fifty- seven) in his "Poetical Works" (1842). Keble, John, M. A., son of the Rev. John Keble, Rector of Coin S. Aldwyn, Gloucestershire; born at Fairford, Gloucester- shire, 22 April, 1792; Vicar of Hursley ; died at Bournemouth, 29 March, 1866. His hymns appeared in the Christian Year (1827), "Lyra Apostolica (1836), Lyra Innocentium (1846), Mis- cellaneous Poems (1857)," etc. Ken, Thomas, D. P., son of Thomas Ken, attorney, of Furni- vaFs Inn ; born at Little Berkhampstead, of Hertfordshire, July, 1637 ; Bishop of Bath and Wells, 16S5; one of the seven Bish- ops committed to the Tower, 1688 ; deprived of his See as a Non. juror, 1691 ; died 19 March, 1711, at Longleate. His Morning, Evening, and Midnight Hymns appeared in the edition of his " Manual of Prayers for the Use of the Scholars of Winchester College" (1674), published in 1697. BIOGRA PHICAL INDEX. 1 1 3 Lyte, Henry Francis, M. A., son of Captain Thomas Lyte; born at Ednam, near Kelso, 1 June, 1793; Perpetual Curate of Lower Brixham, Devonshire; died at Nice, 20 November, 1847. His hymns appeared in "Poems Chiefly Religious "(1833), "Miscellaneous Poems" (1868), and "The Spirit of the Psalms" (1834; 5th edition, corrected and enlarged, 1841). Milmax, Henry Hart, D. D., son of Sir Prancis Milman, a physician, born in London, 10 February, 1791 ; Dean of St. Paul's; died at Sunningfield, near Ascot, 24 September, 1868. His hymns appeared in " Hymns adapted to the Weekly Church Service of the Year," edited by Mrs. Heber" (1827) ; and in " A Selection of Psalms and Hymns for the use of St. Margaret's, Westminster (1837). Montgomery, James, son of the Rev. John Montgomery, a Moravian Minister settled in Ireland ; born at Irvine, in Ayr- shire, 4 November, 1771; editor of the Sheffield Iris; died at Sheffield, 30 April, 1 854. His hymns appeared in " Songs of Zion, being Imitations of [fifty-six of the] Psalms" (1822); "The Christian Psalmist" (1825; 3d edition, 1826); " Original Hymns for Public, Private, and Social Devotion " (1853). Newton, John, son of a sea-captain ; born in London, 24 July, 1725; Curate of Olney, Bucks, and afterwards Rector of S. Mary Woolnoth, London ; died 21 December, 1807. His hymns appeared in the " Olney Hymns" (1779). Palmer, Ray, D. D., son of the Hon. Thomas Palmer, Judge in Rhode Island ; born at Little Compton, Rhode Island, U. S., 12 November, 1808; Pastor of the Congregational Church at Albany, and now Secretary of the Congregational Union, at New York. His "Hymns and Sacred Pieces " appeared in 1865; and his hymns also appeared in " Lowell Mason's Collection " (1832), and " Hymns of my Holy Hours " (1867). Perronet, Edward, son of Rev. Vincent Perronet, Vicar of Shoreham ■ a preacher with the Wesleys, afterwards with Lady 114 BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX. Huntington, then to a small congregation unattached: died January, 1793. His hymns appeared in " Occasional Verses, Moral and Sacred" (1785). Seagraye, Robert, was born at Twyford, Leicester, hire in 1693. He studied at Cambridge, graduated in 1718. In 1739 he was appointed Sunday evening lecturer at Lorimer's Hall, London, lie afterwards preached in the Tabernacles in connec- tion with the Calvanistic Methodists. The date of his death is unknown. He published some treatises on doctiinal subjects, and on the duties of the ministry. In 1 742 he published " Hymns for Chris- tian Worship. His hymns were published by Sedgwick in 1860. Steele, Anne, daughter of William Steele, a timber merchant, who also ministered to the Baptist Church at Broughton, Hamp- shire; boru at Broughton in 1717; died at Broughton, after a life of suffering, in November, 1778. Her " Poems and Hymns" were published under the assumed name of Theodosia, and in 1863 the " Hymns, Psalms, and Poems " previously scattered through many publications, were issued by Mr. Sedgwick in one volume. Toplady, Augustus Montague, son of Major Toplady ; born at Farnham, Surrey, 4 November, 1740; Vicar of Broad Hcmbu- ry, Devonshire ; died at Knightsbridge, London, 11 August, 1778. His hymns (about a hundred and sixteen) appeared in " Poems on Sacred Subjects" (1759), the "Gospel Magazine" (1770- 1776), and elsewhere, and have been re-publishad in a complete edition by Mr. Sedgwick (1860). Waring, Anna L^etitia, daughter of Elijah Waring; born at Neath, Glamorganshire. Her hymns have appeared in "Hymns and Meditations" by A. L. W. (1850), "Additional Hymns" (1858), and in the Sunday Magazine" (1871). Watts, Isaac, D. D., son of a schoolmaster at Southampton; born at Southampton, 17 July, 1674; Minister of the Congrega- tional Church at Berry Street, London ; has been called the father of English hymnody ; died at Stoke Newington, 25 No- BIOGRAPHICAL INDEX. 115 vember, 1748. His hymns appeared in "Horse Lyriece" (1706) ; "Hymns and Spiritual Songs" (1707; enlarged edition, 1709); "Divine Songs for Children" ( 1 71 5 J) ; "The Psalms of David imitated in the Language of the New Testament, and applied to the Christian State and Worship" (1719) ; and appended to his Sermons. Wesley, Charles, M. A., son of Samuel Wesley, Rector of Epworth, Lincolnshire; born at Epworth, 18 December, 1708; was missionary (in Georgia, U. S.) of the Society for the Propa- gation of the Gospel ; united with his brother John in preaching ; became the poet of Methodism ; died in London, 29 March, 1788. His hymns (over six thousand) appeared in : — "A Collection of Psalms and Hymns" by John Wesley (1738), " Hymns and Sa- cred Poems" (1739, 1740, 1742, 1749,1756), "Hymns on God's Everlasting Love " (1741), "Hymns for the Watch Nights (1744), "Hymns for Times of Trouble and Persecution " (1744, 1745), "Hymns on the Lord's Supper" (1745), "Hymns for the Nativ- ity of Our Lord" (2d cd., 1745, 1772), "Hymns for those that Seek, and those that have Found, Redemption in the Blood of Jesus Christ" (1746), "Hymns for our Lord's Resurrection" (1746,) "Hymns for our Lord's Ascension" (1746), "Hymns for New Year's Day" (1750-1788), Hymns of Intercession for all Mankind" (1758), Funeral Hymns" (1759), " Short Hymns" (two thousand one hundred and forty-five) on Select Passages of the Holy Scriptures" (1762), "Hymns for Children, and Others of Riper Years " (1763). Wesley, John, M. A., son of the Rev. Samuel Wesley, Rector of Epworth, Lincolnshire; born at Epworth, 17 June, 1703; Curate at Epworth ; afterwards founder of Methodism ; died in London, 2 March, 179L His hymns, which were mostly transla- tions from the German, appeared in his " Collection of Psalms and Hymns," the original (1738), and subsequent editions. He translated twenty nine from the German, two from the French, and one from the Spanish., a language he learned in America. 3rd LIBRARY OF CONGRESS i nil ii i 021 064 150 6