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To Christ the Monarch

Author: William Dix; Richard W. Adams Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: To Christ the Monarch, be our praise today Lyrics: 1 To Christ the Monarch, be our praise today, Unto the Lord who set His people free; His tribes have passed on dry ground through the flood, Their foes cast down to darkest depth of sea; With His right hand, and glorious holy arm The King gains for Himself the victory. 2 The enemy said, I will overtake, But horse and rider sank down like a stone In surging tide, when parted watery walls By God on high were all together thrown. With His right hand, and glorious mighty power The King gains for Himself the victory. 3 The enemy said, I will cast them down To lions’ den, into the sevenfold flame; But angels saved them from the lions’ mouths, And cooling wind into the furnace came. With His right hand, that rules o’er beast and fire, The King gains for Himself the victory. The enemy said, I will bind in chains Th’imprisoned souls that lie in death’s domain; But Christ the Lord led them into the light, And Hades’ prisoners were free again; With His right hand, and power o’er life and death, The King gains for Himself the victory. Glory, thanksgiving, praises to the King May all His servants bring ’til heavens ring; See, through the grave and gate of death He passed, From bonds of sin His precious own to free; With His right hand, and glorious holy arm The King gains for Himself the victory. Used With Tune: [To Christ the Monarch, be our praise today] Text Sources: A Vision of All Saints (London: John Hodges, 1871)

Now comes the light for which our souls have sought

Author: Malcolm Quinn Appears in 1 hymnal Used With Tune: STOCKPORT (YORKSHIRE)

Oh More Than Merciful

Author: Reginald Heber, 1783-1826 Meter: 10.10.10.10.10.10 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: Oh more than merciful! whose bounty gave Lyrics: 1 Oh more than merciful! whose bounty gave Thy guiltless self to glut the greedy grave! Whose heart was rent to pay Thy people’s price; The great high priest at once and sacrifice! Help, Savior, by Thy cross and crimson stain, Nor let Thy glorious blood be spilt in vain! 2 When sin with flowery garland hides her dart, When tyrant force would daunt the sinking heart, When fleshly lust assails, or worldly care, Or the soul flutters in the fowler’s snare— Help, Savior, by Thy cross and crimson stain, Nor let Thy glorious blood be spilt in vain! 3 And, chiefest then, when nature yields the strife, And mortal darkness wraps the gate of life; When the poor spirit, from the tomb set free, Sinks at Thy feet and lifts its hope to Thee— Help, Savior, by Thy cross and crimson stain, Nor let Thy glorious blood be spilt in vain! Used With Tune: YORKSHIRE Text Sources: Published posthumously in Hymns Written and Adapted to the Weekly Church Service of the Year (London: J. Murray, 1827)

Not To Our Names

Author: Isaac Watts Meter: 10.10.10.10.10.10 Appears in 62 hymnals First Line: Not to our names, Thou only just and true Used With Tune: YORKSHIRE Text Sources: The Psalms of David,1719

Prayer For Rain

Author: Hannah J. Lewis, 1816-1885 Meter: 10.10.10.10.10.10 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: Rain, rain! the meadow lands are all athirst Lyrics: 1 Rain, rain! the meadow lands are all athirst; The leaves grow crisp upon the forest trees; The flowers that spring’s abundant moisture nursed Yield no more fragrance to the passing breeze— They have all bowed their heads like things accursed And when shall fresher ones succeed to these? 2 Along the bed of the once rushing brook We seek in vain to trace its sparkling tide; And far away in some old shady nook, Where late its crystal drops it loved to hide. The clustering branches bend, and vainly look For the lost jewels, once the woodland pride! 3 Clouds rise and float across the azure main, The thunder sends its greeting o’er the hills, But the soft falling and refreshing rain No more the parching earth with gladness fills; And the sere upland, with the barren plain Unheeded supplicate the vanished rills. 4 God of the storm and the reviving shower, Look Thou in mercy on our sorest need! Let not the harvest fail, since Thine the power To fill the reaper’s hand with priceless meed: We look to Thee in this o’ershadowed hour, For blessings which alone from Thee proceed! Used With Tune: YORKSHIRE Text Sources: The Poetical Works of Mrs. H. J. Lewis (Boston: Cupples, Upham, 1885)

Told in the Market-Place

Author: Edwina S. Babcock Meter: 10.10.10.10.10.10 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: That day the doves with burnished silver breasts Lyrics: 1. That day the doves with burnished silver breasts Uneasy were; we, halt and blind and lame, Within the temple waited, ugly guests, Hoping, in spite of filth, disease and shame; Outside the multitude waved branches green Calling, Hosanna to the Nazarene. 2. I shrank close to the roof-prop, for my eyes Were dead to seeing: but heard I the coins, The piles of clinking silver shekels rise, Poured from sheiks’ bags and belts ’round merchant loins; I heard the purple priced; and in between Far off, Hosanna to the Nazarene. 3. I could not see Him enter, but I heard The multitude and smelled the dusty throng: Old Anab brushed me with his ragged beard, Muttering, Kneel, thou! He will speak ere long. Yea—though five time more leprous I had been I would come here to implore the Nazarene. 4. But then the woman Terah, ill of pox, Began to whimper, See, He bringeth woe! He overturns the booths, the treasure box, Eyes blazing on the sellers. Let us go! He’ll scourge us, smite us! Tush! It is well seen We shall be cursèd of the Nazarene. 5. A form swept past us, we in terror caught A man’s clear voice of anger: then the sound Of fleeing feet of traffickers, onslaught On booths, and tables crashing to the ground. I heard the money scatter and careen Under the spurning of the Nazarene. 6. Rachel, a maiden, clutched my sleeve, and shrank With me behind the curtain, and the crowd Surged wildly past. For us, our dear hopes sank Under that stern voice cutting like a goad, Judging, arraigning, charging; ’mid the spleen Of money-changers, stood the Nazarene! 7. This temple is My house, the House of Prayer! His voice was like the wind that whips the leaves. But with your buyings and your sellings there Ye—ye have made My house a den of thieves. Then little Rachel sobbed, Awful is His mien; His eyes are flames; I fear the Nazarene. 8. But when the temple silenced—while a dove Fluttered and soared and beat against the roof, We frightened beggars heard a voice of love Calling us gently; then His tender proof He gave. He healed us! I, who e’er had been Blind from my birth—I saw the Nazarene! Used With Tune: YORKSHIRE

¡Cuidad sagrada, Betlehem dichosa!

Author: J. B. Cabrera Appears in 1 hymnal Used With Tune: [¡Cuidad sagrada, Betlehem dichosa!]

I Will Exalt You, O My God and King

Meter: 10.10.10.10.10.10 Appears in 1 hymnal Topics: Christian Education; God Goodness of; God Greatness of ; God Love and Grace of; God Works of Scripture: Psalm 145 Used With Tune: YORKSHIRE Text Sources: OPC/URCNA 2016

The Humble Inquiry

Author: Isaac Watts Meter: 10.10.10.10.10.10 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: Grace rules below, and sits enthroned above Lyrics: 1 Grace rules below, and sits enthroned above, How few the sparks of wrath! how slow they move, And drop and die in boundless seas of love! 2 But me, vile wretch! should pitying love embrace Deep in its ocean, hell itself would blaze, And flash and burn me through the boundless seas. 3 Yea, Lord, my guilt to such a vastness grown Seems to confine my choice to wrath alone, And calls Thy power to vindicate Thy throne. 4 Thine honor bids, "Avenge Thy injured name," Thy slighted loves a dreadful glory claim, While my moist tears might but incense Thy flame. 5 Should heav’n grow black, almighty thunder roar, And vengeance blast me, I could plead no more, But own Thy justice, dying, and adore. 6 Yet can those bolts of death that cleave the flood To reach a rebel, pierce this sacred shroud, Tinged in the vital stream of my Redeemer’s blood? Used With Tune: YORKSHIRE Text Sources: Horae Lyrica Book 1, 1706