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The Red, Red Sky

Hymnal: HTS2 #132 (1899) First Line: In the early, early morning, beyond the islands green Lyrics: In the early, early morning, beyond the islands green, Beyond the pines and palm-trees, and the purple sea between, Like the glow through a crimson window The morning rises slow, And the isles lie dim in the glory, And the sea is all aglow. In the dim and misty evening the purple mountains stand, And the glooms that hush the woodlands lie over all the land, And high in dark-blue heavens the red light burns and glows, Like the jasper of God’s city, like the deep heart of the rose. Oh why does morning dawn, and why ends the golden day, With the crimson glow and glory, while children kneel and pray? Is it thus that God would tell me before the day begins Of the morn of the Day of pardon, the Blood that has washed my sins? The morn of the Day of gladness, the Day of His love and grace, When like the Sun in his glory, the Lord unveiled His Face, And His love shone forth in beauty where all was dark before, For the Blood had been shed which saved me, once and for evermore. Is it thus that God would tell me the evening draweth nigh, When we pass beyond the mountains, beyond the purple sky? And then, in God’s great glory the golden gates I see, And sing, “The Blood of Jesus has opened them for me!” Languages: English

May Days

Hymnal: HTS2 #134 (1899) First Line: God made the sun to give me light Lyrics: God made the sun to give me light, The trees to give me shade; The cowslips and the violets For me His Hands have made. He made the birds to sing to me, The blossoms on the tree, To make me glad in summer days; But why did He make me? O child, how wonderful and sweet The answer God has given! The blessed Lord, who died for thee, Has need of thee in Heaven. To make Him glad in Paradise He needs thy little song; He needs thee for His love and joy Where He has waited long. Oh glad art thou when spring comes in, And flowers and birds and bees Make all the sunny fields rejoice, And leaves are on the trees. O child! the Lord will have His spring When these long years are past. His little ones from every land Shall be with Him at last. His lilies and His roses sweet, His buds and blossoms rare, All, all His children then shall meet, And all His joy shall be complete When they are round Him there. Languages: English

What Should I See?

Hymnal: HTS2 #135 (1899) First Line: If I had the eyes of Heaven Lyrics: If I had the eyes of Heaven, That could all things see, Oh what glorious surprises All around would be! I should see all still and stately God’s white Angels tread, Watch me with their eyes of glory, Sit beside my bed. When I take the broth to Granny In her garret mean, I should see them wait around her, As around a Queen. Through the snow in dusky twilight, When the winds are wild, See them speed where lost and lonely Strays a little child. Through the stillness of the noonday See them swiftly rise, Bearing one with face uplighted Far into the skies. Meet them in the lonely places, In the busy street, Ever calm as skies of summer, Ever strong and fleet. Glad and tender in their service, For God’s love they know To the smallest and the meanest Of His own below. Languages: English

Cowslips

Hymnal: HTS2 #137 (1899) First Line: Long ago, in springs of old Lyrics: Long ago, in springs of old, Happy days would be, When in meadows green and gold I might wander free. High the sunny clouds up-piled, Blue the April sky, Birds and flowers and all things wild Glad and free as I. Oh how merry was the shout, When the stile was passed, “Joy! the cowslips all are out! Spring is come at last!” There in sweet and sunny air Who can tell the bliss? Costly shops and gardens fair Have no joys like this. Playthings, countless, fresh, and sweet, Scattered wide and free, All around the children’s feet, Gifts of God to me. Whilst I waked, and whilst I slept, Through the winter wild, All the tender flowers He kept For His little child— Kept them safe beneath the snow, Safe through wind and rain, Till in sunshine all aglow They arise again. Oh what joys are kept for me In His secret place, Till the Spring that soon shall be, When I see His Face! Languages: English

A True Story

Hymnal: HTS2 #138 (1899) First Line: All alone in the evening grey Lyrics: All alone in the evening grey, Sick and dying, poor Hannah lay; Through the broken pane the cold wind swept, Poor Hannah shivered, and moaned, and wept. But it was not cold, and it was not pain, That made her shiver and moan again: She did not say, “My pain is sore,” But “Where shall I be when all is o’er?” For Hannah remembered the years gone by, And she said, “A sinner—a sinner am I! All black and fearful the sins appear, That I had forgotten for many a year; And thousands, thousands, they come to mind— There is hell before and sin behind. The Lord is holy, and just, and true, And what He has said He will surely do. He hath for sin an awful doom, A lake of fire beyond the tomb; And my soul is black with the sins of years, They cannot be washed away with tears. And sure it is vain to pray and cry; He cannot hear such a sinner as I. I am going—going—to stand alone, Before the Lord on His awful throne!” * * * * * Bright and glad as the stars came out, With many a laugh and many a shout, Jack and Will in the garden played, And they heeded not the noise they made. But the neighbour calling said, “Children, dear, A woman is sick in that house so near; There, where the broken pane you see, She is lying as ill as she can be. She soon must die, and you see ’tis best You should be still, and let her rest.” Then in a moment they were still, For tender hearts had both Jack and Will, And they sat and looked at the casement lone, Till the stars shone bright, and the day was gone. Then Jack said, “Will, she will go to Heaven, If she has had her sins forgiven. I learned at school that when Jesus died The door of Heaven was opened wide, Because He was punished Himself for sin. So now if we die, we can all go in; Of our sins there will not a word be said, For Jesus Christ was punished instead; And if she believes He loves her so, Beyond the stars her soul will go. He will lead her in through the golden door, And she will be happy for evermore.” Then Will said, “Jack, that is all quite true— But does she know it as well as you? What Jesus did we have both been taught, But some know this, and some do not. O Jack, maybe she has never known What it is that the Lord has done!” Then Jack said, “If you would help me, Will, I would climb up to the window sill, And through the hole I would call and say, ‘Jesus washes our sins away.’” * * * * * The neighbour said when her work was done, “It may be Hannah is all alone, And oh! it’s an awful thing to lie Too ill to live, and afraid to die. So just to sit with her I will go, But how to help her I do not know.” So the neighbour went, and she heard no moan, And she thought, “Poor Hannah is dead and gone;” She lighted the candle with fear and dread, And stooped to see if Hannah was dead. But there she lay with her face so bright! It shone with glory and not with light. And she said, “O neighbour, the Lord is good! He has washed me white in His precious Blood, My sins are gone from before His Face, And He has prepared a glorious place, Where those He loves with Himself shall be, And to that sweet Home He is calling me. O neighbour, here in the dark I lay, I felt so guilty I could not pray, And all my sins like a mountain stood Before the terrible Face of God. Then all in a moment, sweet and clear, A voice spake loud, though none was near, Like an Angel speaking I heard it say, ‘Jesus washes our sins away!’ And whilst I thought, Do my ears tell true? It said, ‘Poor woman, He died for you.’ And then did the words come sweet and low That I had forgotten long ago; I once heard tell in the years gone by, How Jesus came on the cross to die, And there He hung in the darkness dread, With a crown of thorns on His holy Head. And some old, old words came back to me, ‘He bore our sins on the cursed tree.’ Yes, it was true that mine He bore, So the guilt is gone, and the judgment o’er; And more than that, if He died for me, What must the love of Jesus be! He in His Home of glory waits To see me enter the golden gates; Whilst I lay moaning in black despair; His heart was longing to have me there. And oh for the welcome I soon shall know! No words can tell how I long to go!” * * * * * And so, ere many a day was done, There was joy in the Home beyond the sun, For Hannah had entered the golden door To dwell with her Saviour for evermore. God saith that all who to Jesus come He in His love will welcome home. The Lord is holy, and just, and true, And what He hath said, He will surely do. Languages: English

The Reed

Hymnal: HTS2 #144 (1899) First Line: When flowers are red and gold and white Lyrics: When flowers are red and gold and white, And fair is every weed, The green reeds have no blossom bright— I would not be a reed. For all the summer flowers declare In beauty men can see, How sweet, how glorious, how fair, The thoughts of God must be. Then cut a wandering shepherd boy A hollow pipe of reed; His little tune of mirth and joy Rang far across the mead. It was the gladness of his heart That flowed in music free, The wild bird has no sweeter art That sings upon the tree. Oh, could I be the little reed, To tell afar and near The joy and love of God above, In music sweet and clear! And all around should hear the sound, And know that love Divine Is not my own, but God’s alone, His music, and not mine. Sweet words should cheer the weary ear, And tender words the sad, And none should heed how small the reed; God’s love would make them glad. Languages: English

Winter and Summer

Hymnal: HTS2 #145 (1899) First Line: The sky is dreary and rainy Lyrics: “The sky is dreary and rainy, And the wind makes a restless moan— And the yellow leaves drift and wander, And the songs and the summer are gone.” Not so, for the gardens are glowing In summer beyond the sea, In the glory of songs and of flowers, Whilst here it is winter for thee. And land after land wakes in sunshine, And the grass and the lilies upspring, And the children shout loud in the meadows, And madly the wild birds sing. There is never an end of the summer, For round the great world it goes; There are somewhere the fields of narcissus, And somewhere the sweet red rose. “Why can I not follow the summer, Far over the hills and the sea, And be always for ever and ever Wherever the summer may be?” O child, there is summer for ever, Here under the wintry sky, Where the Lord is the light and the glory, And His lambs in His pastures lie. When the snow and the wild sleet are driven Far over the lonely mere, There is summer beyond all the summers, Where Jesus the Lord is near. Languages: English

Water-Lilies

Hymnal: HTS2 #146 (1899) First Line: Who are like the lilies white Lyrics: Who are like the lilies white, With their crowns all golden bright, Resting on the waters still, Underneath the purple hill? They are like the saints who stand, Every one with harp in hand, On the crystal sea that lies Far beyond the summer skies. They are clad in white array, For their sin is washed away; Golden crowns for every one, For they reign beyond the sun, Over all the Heavens afar, Over sun and moon and star; They who low before Him fall, Reign with Jesus over all. Languages: English

The Secret

Hymnal: HTS2 #147 (1899) First Line: Long ago, within a castle Lyrics: Long ago, within a castle Far beyond the purple sea, Dwelt a fair and gracious lady— Thus her tale was told to me. She was like a mystic story Of an angel clad in white— She was like the rest and glory Of the starry summer night. For where sickness was, or sorrow, Pain or hunger, want or care, Bright and sweet and calm and tender, Never wearied, she was there. Unto her the weary-hearted, Unto her the sinners came— She had comfort for their sorrow, She had pity for their shame. And afar in distant countries Many a blessèd tale was told, Of the lady sweet and gracious Dwelling in the castle old. Then went one who longed to comfort All the sorrowing and distressed, There to learn the blessèd secret How to give the weary rest. All day long he watched the lady, For he thought that she must pray Somewhere in a holy chapel Surely seven times a day. But he could not learn the secret, Where the lady prayed, or when; Nor what book of prayers could make her Like a well of life to men. Then another went to watch her— Did she fast like hermits old? Go to services at midnight When the winter winds blew cold? Nay—she ate her food with gladness, And at night she only slept; Rose again refreshed and thankful, Fit to comfort those who wept. Then another went to watch her Far across the purple sea; But her ways were sweet and simple, Just as others, so did she. Yet she seemed attuned to music Sounding from a golden chord; Suddenly he said, “Dear Lady, Lovest thou the blessed Lord?” “Yea,” she said, “Full well I love Him, For I know He loveth me.” Gladly then he sped him homewards Far across the purple sea. Languages: English

In the Lanes

Hymnal: HTS2 #150 (1899) First Line: It is summer all over the meadows Lyrics: It is summer all over the meadows, All over the woods and the sea; How many the glad days of summer My Father has given to me! I think of the long-ago summers, With their woodbine and feathery fern— Of the rambling lanes and the hedgerows— Of the tumbling mountain burn. The foxgloves afar in the forest, And the cranesbill soft and blue, As eyes that look into Heaven Till the Heaven itself shines through. As a story of rapture and wonder Are those hedge flowers wild and free, The travellers’ joy and the mullein, And the pink thrift near the sea. The thyme and the marjoram purple, The meadow-sweet fair and cool, Where the reedy streams go wandering Down to the deep mill-pool. The scabious and the yarrow Over the chalky down, The flowering rush in the trenches, With rose and crimson crown; The water violet stately, And the frosted bog-bean white The whole wide world was a marvel, A garden of strange delight! O ye thousand thousand flowers, To me as a sign ye stand, Of the things of joy and wonder In the glorious summer land— The Lord, who has strewn them broadcast Over the lonely hills, Who has filled the woods with music, And has gemmed the mountain rills— Oh what has He made to greet us In the land of fair delight, Where His own shall rejoice before Him, And shall walk with Him in white? Languages: English