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Who seeks in weakness an excuse

Author: Catherine Winkworth; Marperger Meter: 8.7.8.7.6.6.8.6.6.8 Appears in 4 hymnals Lyrics: Who seeks in weakness an excuse, His sins will vanquish never; Unless he heart and mind renews, He is deceived for ever. The strait and narrow way, That shines to perfect day, He hath not found, hath never trod; Little he knows, I ween, What prayer and conflict mean To one who hath the light of God. In what the world calls weakness lurks The very strength of evil, Full mightily it helps the works Of our great foe the devil. Awake, my soul, awake, Thy refuge quickly take With Him, the Almighty, who can save; One look from Christ thy Lord Can sever every cord That binds thee now, a wretched slave. Know, the first step in Christian lore Is to depart from sin; True faith will leave the world no more A place thy heart within. Thy Saviour's Spirit first The heavy bonds must burst, Wherein Death bound thee in thy need; Then the freed spirit know What strength He gives to those Who with their Lord are risen indeed. And why Thy Spirit, Lord, began Help Thou with inner might! Earth has no better gift for man Than strength and love of right. Oh make Thy followers just Who look to Thee in trust, Thy strength and justice let us know; Our souls through Thee would wear The power of grace, most fair Of all the jewels faith can show. Strong Son of God, break down Thy foes, So shall we conquer ours; Strong in the might from Thee that flows, We mourn not lack of powers, E'er since that from above, The witness of Thy love Thy Spirit cam, and doth abide With us, dispelling fear And falsehood, that we here May fight and conquer on Thy side. Give strength, whene'er our strength must fail; Give strength the flesh to curb; Give strength when craft and sin prevail To weaken and disturb. The world doth lay her snares To catch us unawares, Give strength to sweep them all away; So in our utmost need, And when death comes indeed, Thy strength shall be our perfect stay.

Leave God to order all thy ways

Author: Catherine Winkworth; Neumarck Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8 Appears in 41 hymnals Lyrics: Leave God to order all thy ways, And hope in Him whate'er betide, Thou'lt find Him in the evil days Thy all-sufficient strength and guide; Who trusts in God's unchanging love, Builds on the rock that nought can move. What can these anxious cares avail, These never-ceasing moans and sighs? What can it help us to bewail Each painful moment as it flies? Our cross and trials do but press The heavier for our bitterness. Only thy restless heart keep still, And wait in cheerful hope; content To take whate'er His gracious will, His all-discerning love hath sent; Nor doubt our inmost wants are known To Him who chose us for His own. He knows when joyful hours are best, He sends them as He sees it meet; When thou hast borne the fiery test, And now art freed from all deceit, He comes to thee all unaware, And makes thee own His loving care. Nor in the heat of pain and strife, Think God hath cast thee off unheard, And that the man, whose prosperous life Thou enviest, is of Him preferred; Time passes and much change doth bring, And sets a bound to everything. All are alike before His face; 'Tis easy to our God most High To make the rich man poor and base, To give the poor man wealth and joy. True wonders still by Him are wrought, Who setteth up, and brings to nought. Sing, pray, and swerve not from His ways, But do thine own part faithfully, Trust His rich promises of grace, So shall they be fulfilled in thee; God never yet forsook in need The soul that trusted Him indeed.

O Cross, we hail thy bitter reign

Author: Catherine Winkworth; Gotter Meter: 8.8.8.8 Appears in 3 hymnals Lyrics: O Cross, we hail thy bitter reign, O come, thou well-beloved guest! Whose sorest sufferings work not pain, Whose heaviest burden is but rest. For is not our Redeemer bound In closest ties of love to those Who faithful to the cross are found, Through ceaseless tears, through saddest woes? Hark, the confessors of the faith Yet of their cross and fetters boast; All saints have borne it to the death, With all the martyrs' radiant host. Pledge of our glorious home afar! Thee, Holy Sign, with joy we take, Sign of a peace life could not mar, Of just content death could not shake: The Sign how Truth, once crucified, Now throned in majesty doth reign, How Love is bless'd and glorified, That here on earth was mocked and slain. Their names are writ in words of light Who here on earth their Lord confest; They hear the bridegroom's cry at night, Come to my marriage feast, ye blest! Who then would faint, nor join to share In Christ's reproach, in want or pain? The bitterest death who would not dare? Who fears a martyr's crown to gain? Up, Brethren of the Cross! and haste Where Christ our Head hath gone before! We hymn His praise the while we taste The shame and death He sometime bore. In bonds and stripes, in falsest blame, Our crown, our dearest wealth we see, A dungeon were a throne, and shame Our chiefest glory, borne for Thee. What though the world on us may fling Its scorn, and oft we strive with death, The holy angels speed to bring Our help and strength, our victor's wreath. Up, quit the gates where sin abides, From earth's doomed cities quickly come, Yon eastern Star full surely guides All pilgrims to their Father's home.

Be thou content; be still before

Author: Paul Gerhardt; Catherine Winkworth Meter: 8.8.8.8.10.10.4 Appears in 5 hymnals Lyrics: Be thou content; be still before His face, at whose right hand doth reign Fulness of joy for evermore, Without whom all thy toil is vain. He is thy living spring, thy sun, whose rays Make glad with life and light thy dreary days. Be thou content. In Him is comfort, light and grace, And changeless love beyond our thought; The sorest pang, the worst disgrace, If He is there, shall harm thee not. He can lift off thy cross, and loose thy bands, And calm thy fears, nay, death is in His hands. Be thou content. Or art thou friendless and alone, Hast none in whom thou canst confide? God careth for thee, lonely one, Comfort and help will He provide. He sees thy sorrows and thy hidden grief, He knoweth when to send thee quick relief; Be thou content. Thy heart's unspoken pain He knows, Thy secret signs He hears full well, What to none else thou dar'st disclose, To Him thou mayst with boldness tell; He is not far away, but ever nigh, And answereth willingly the poor man's cry. Be thou content. Be not o'er-mastered by thy pain, But cling to God, thou shalt not fall; The floods sweep over thee in vain, Thou yet shalt rise above them all; For when thy trial seems to hard to bear, Lo! God, thy King, hath granted all thy prayer: Be thou content. Why art thou full of anxious fear How thou shalt be sustained and fed? He who hath made and placed thee here, Will give the needful daily bread; Canst thou not trust His rich and bounteous hand, Who feeds all living things on sea and land? Be thou content. He who doth teach the little birds To find their meat in field and wood, Who gives the countless flocks and herds Each day their needful drink and food, Thy hunger too will surely satisfy, And all thy wants in His good time supply. Be thou content. Sayst thou, I know not how or where, No help I see where'er I turn; When of all else we most despair, The riches of God's love we learn; When thou and I His hand no longer trace, He leads us forth into a pleasant place. Be thou content. Though long His promised aid delay, At last it will be surely sent: Though thy heart sink in sore dismay, The trial for thy good is meant. What we have won with pains we hold more fast, What tarrieth long is sweeter at the last. Be thou content. Lay not to heart whate'er of ill Thy foes may falsely speak of thee, Let man defame thee as he will, God hears, and judges righteously. Why shouldst thou fear, if God be on thy side, Man's cruel anger, or malicious pride? Be thou content. We know for us a rest remains, When God will give us sweet release From earth and all our mortal chains, And turn our sufferings into peace. Sooner or later death will surely come To end our sorrows, and to take us home: Be thou content. Home to the chosen ones, who here Served their Lord faithfully and well, Who died in peace, without a fear, And there in peace for ever dwell; The Everlasting is their joy and stay, The Eternal Word Himself to them doth say, Be thou content!

Leave all to God

Author: Anton Ulrich, Duke of Brunswick; Catherine Winkworth Meter: 4.8.7.7.8.4 Appears in 6 hymnals Lyrics: Leave all to God, Forsaken one, and stay thy tears; For the Highest knows thy pain, Sees thy sufferings and thy fears Thou shalt not wait His help in vain, Leave all to God. Be still and trust! For His strokes are strokes of love, Thou must for thy profit bear; He thy filial fear would move, Trust thy Father's loving care, Be still and trust! Know, God is near! Though thou think Him far away, Though His mercy long have slept, He will come and not delay, When His child enough hath wept, For God is near! O teach Him not When and how to hear thy prayers; Never doth our God forget, He the cross who longest bears Finds his sorrows' bounds are set, Then teach Him not. If thou love Him, Walking truly in His ways, Then no trouble, cross or death, E'er shall silence faith and praise; All things serve thee here beneath, If thou love God!

Come, brethren, let us go!

Author: Gerhard Tersteegen; Catherine Winkworth Meter: 6.6.8.6 Appears in 23 hymnals Lyrics: Come, brethren, let us go! The evening closeth round, 'Tis perilous to linger here On this wild desert ground. Come, towards eternity Press on from strength to strength, Nor dread your journey's toils nor length, For good its end shall be. We shall not rue our choice, Though straight our path and steep, We know that He who called us here His word shall ever keep. Then follow, trusting; come, And let each set his face Toward yonder fair and blessed place, Intent to reach our home. The body and the house Deck not, but deck the heart With all your powers; we are but guests, Ere long we must depart. Ease brings disease; content Howe'er his lot may fall, A pilgrim bears and bows to all, For soon the time is spent. Come, children, let us go! Our Father is our guide; And when the way grows steep and dark, He journeys at our side. Our spirits He would cheer, The sunshine of His love Revives and helps us as we rove, Ah, blest our lot e'en here! Each hasten bravely on, Not yet our goal is near; Look to the fiery pillar oft, That tells the Lord is here. Your glances onward send, Love beckons us, nor think That they who following chance to sink Shall miss their journey's end. Come, children, let us go! We travel hand in hand; Each in his brother finds his joy In this wild stranger land. As children let us be, Nor by the way fall out, The angels guard us round about, And help us brotherly. The strong be quick to raise The weaker when they fall; Let love and peace and patience bloom In ready help for all. In love yet closer bound, Each would be least, yet still On love's fair path most pure from ill, Most loving, would be found. Come, wander on with joy, For shorter grows the way, The hour that frees us from the flesh Draws nearer day by day. A little truth and love, A little courage yet, More free from earth, more apt to set Your hopes on things above. It will not last for long, A little farther roam; It will not last much longer now Ere we shall reach our home; There shall we ever rest, There with our Father dwell, With all the saints who served Him well, There truly, deeply blest. For this all things we dare,— 'Tis worth the risk I trow,— Renouncing all that clogs our course, Or weighs us down below. O world, thou art too small, We seek another higher, Whither Christ guides us ever nigher, Where God is all in all. Friend of our perfect choice, Thou joy of all that live, Being that know'st not chance or change, What courage dost Thou give! All beauty, Lord, we see, All bliss and life and love, In Him in whom we love and move, And we are glad in Thee!

Though all to Thee were faithless

Author: Novalis Meter: 7.6.7.6 Appears in 3 hymnals Lyrics: Though all to Thee were faithless, I yet were true, my Head, To show that love is deathless, From earth not wholly fled. Here didst Thou live in sadness, And die in pain for me, For this I give with gladness My heart and soul to Thee. I could weep night and morning That Thou hast died, and yet So few will heed Thy warning, So many Thee forget. O loving and true-hearted, How much for us didst Thou! Yet is Thy fame departed, And none regards it now. But still Thy love befriends us, Of every heart the guide; Unfailing help it lends us, Thou all had turned aside. Oh! such love soon or later Must conquer, must be felt, Then at Thy feet the traitor In bitter tears shall melt. Lord, I have inly found Thee, Depart Thou not from me, But wrap Thy love around me, And keep me close to Thee. Once too my brethren, yonder Upgazing where Thou art, Shall learn Thy love with wonder, And sink upon Thy heart.

Oh well for him who all things braves

Author: Anon.; Catherine Winkworth Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8 Appears in 3 hymnals Lyrics: Oh well for him who all things braves, A soldier of the Lord to be, Whom vice counts not among her slaves, From envy, pride, and passion free; Who wars against the world of sin Without him, and self-will within. Who follows Christ whate'er betide, Is worthy of a soldier's name; Is He thy Way, thy Light, thy Guide, 'Tis meet thou also bear His shame; Who shrinks from dark Gethsemane, Shall Tabor's glories never see. What profits it that Christ hath deigned To wear our mortal nature thus, If we ourselves have ne'er attained That God reveal Himself in us? The pure and virgin soul alone He chooseth for His earthly throne. What profits it that Christ is born, And bringeth childhood back to men, Unless our long-lost right we mourn, And win through penitence again, And lead a God-like life on earth, As children of the second birth? What profits all that Christ hath taught, If man is slave to reason still, And worldly wisdom, honour, thought, Rule all his acts, and move his will? He follows what his Lord doth teach Who true denial of self would reach. What profit us His deeds and life, His meekness, love so quick to bless, If we give place to pride and strife, Dishonouring thus His holiness? What profits it, if for reward, And not in faith, we call Him Lord? What profits us His agony, If we endure not pain and scorn? 'Tis combat brings forth victory, Of sorrow sweetest joys are born; And ne'er to him Christ's crown is given, Who hath not here with Adam striven. What profit ye His death and cross, Unless to self ye also die? Ye love your life to find it loss, Afraid the flesh to crucify. Wouldst live to this world still? Then know, His death to thee is barren show. What profit that He loosed and broke All bonds, if ye in league remain With earth? Who weareth Satan's yoke Shall call Him Master but in vain. Count ye the soul for reconciled, Yet slave to earth, by sin defiled? What profits it that He is risen, If dead in sins thou yet dost lie? If yet thou cleavest to thy prison, What profit that He dwells on high? His triumph will avail thee nought If thou hast ne'er the battle fought. Then live and suffer, do and bear, As Christ thy pattern here hath done, And seek His innocence to wear, That he may count thee of His own. Who loveth Christ cares but to win New triumphs o'er the world of sin.

Oh would I had a thousand tongues

Author: Mentzer; Catherine Winkworth Meter: 8.8.8.8.10.10 Appears in 10 hymnals Lyrics: Oh would I had a thousand tongues, To sound Thy praise o'er land and sea! Oh! rich and sweet should be my songs, Of all my God has done for me! With thankfulness my heart must often swell, But mortal lips Thy praises faintly tell. Oh that my voice could far resound Up to yon stars that o'er me shine! Would that my blood for joy might bound Through every vein while life is mine! Would that each pulse were gratitude, each breath A song to Him who keeps me safe from death! O all ye powers of soul and mind, Arise, keep silence thus no more; Put forth your strength, and ye shall find Your noblest work is to adore. O soul and body, make ye pure and meet, With heartfelt praise your God and Lord to greet. Ye little leaves so fresh and green, That dance for joy in summer air, Ye slender grasses, bright and keen, Ye flowers so wondrous sweet and fair; Ye only for your Maker's glory live, Help me, for all His love, meet praise to give. O all ye living things that throng With breath and motion earth and sky, Be ye companions in my song, Help me to raise His praises high; For my unaided powers are far too weak The glories of His mighty works to speak. And first, O Father, praise to Thee For all I am and all I have, It was Thy merciful decree That all those blessings richly gave, Which o'er the earth are scattered far and near, To help and gladden us who sojourn here. And, dearest Jesus, blest be Thou, Whose heart with pity overflows, Thou rich in help! who deign'dst to bow To earth, and taste her keenest woes; Thy death has burst my bonds and set me free, Has made me Thine; henceforth I cling to Thee. Nor less to Thee, O Holy Ghost, Be everlasting honours paid, For all Thy comfort, Lord, and most That I a child of life am made By Thy deep love; my good deeds are not mine, Thou workest them through me, O Light Divine. Yes, Lord, through all my changing days, With each new scene afresh I mark How wondrously Thou guid'st my ways, Where all seems troubled, wilder'd, dark; When dangers thicken fast, and hopes depart, Thy light beams comfort on my sinking heart. Shall I not then be filled with joy, Shall I not praise Thee evermore? Triumphant songs my lips employ, E'en when my cup of woe runs o'er; Nay, though the heavens should vanish as a scroll, Nothing shall shake or daunt my trusting soul. But of Thy goodness will I sing As long as I have life and breath, Offerings of thanks I'll daily bring Until my heart is still in death; And when at last my lips grow pale and cold, Yet in my sighs Thy praises shall be told. Father, do Thou in mercy deign To listen to my earthly lays; Once shall I learn a nobler strain, Where angels ever hymn Thy praise, There in the radiant choir I too shall sing Loud hallelujahs to my glorious Kings.

A sure stronghold our God is He

Author: Luther; William Gaskell Meter: 8.7.8.7.6.6.6.6.7 Appears in 5 hymnals Lyrics: A sure stronghold our God is He, A trusty shield and weapon; Our help He'll be and set us free From every ill can happen. That old malicious foe Intends us deadly woe; Armed with the strength of hell And deepest craft as well, On earth is not his fellow. Through our own force we nothing can, Straight were we lost forever; But for us fights the proper Man, By God sent to deliver. Ask ye who this may be? Christ Jesus named is He, Of Sabaoth the Lord; Sole God to be adored; 'Tis he must win the battle. And were the world with devils filled, All eager to devour us, Our souls to fear should little yield, They cannot overpower us. Their dreaded Prince no more Can harm us as of yore; Look grim as e'er he may, Doomed is his ancient sway; A word can overthrow him. Still shall they leave that Word His might, And yet no thanks shall merit; Still is He with us in the fight, By His good gifts and Spirit. E'en should they take our life, Goods, honour, children, wife— Though all of these be gone, Yet nothing have they won, God's kingdom ours abideth!