Instance Results

Switch back to the old search page.Advanced Search

Showing 81 - 90 of 104Results Per Page: 10 20 50

Yes, there remaineth yet a rest!

Author: Kunth; Catherine Winkworth Hymnal: LG1861 #80 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8 Lyrics: Yes, there remaineth yet a rest! Arise, sad heart, who now dost pine, By heavy care and pain opprest, On whom no sun of joy can shine; Look to the Lamb! in yon bright fields Thou'lt know the joy His presence yields; Cast off thy load and thither haste; Soon shalt thou fight and bleed no more, Soon, soon thy weary course be o'er, And deep the rest thou then shalt taste: The rest appointed thee of God, The rest that nought shall break or move, That ere this earth by man was trod Was set apart for thee by Love. Our Saviour gave His life to win This rest for thee; oh enter in! Here how His voice sounds far and wide: Ye weary souls, no more delay, Nor loiter faithless by the way, Here in my peace and rest abide! Ye heavy-laden, come to Him! Ye who are bent with many a load, Come from your prisons drear and dim, Toil not thus sadly on your road! Ye've borne the burden of the day, And hear ye not your Saviour say, I am your refuge and your rest? His children ye, of heavenly birth, Howe'er may rage sin, hell, or earth, Here are ye safe, here calmly blest. Yonder in joy the sheaves we bring, Whose seed was sown on earth in tears; There in our Father's house we sing The song too sweet for mortal ears. Sorrow and sighing all are past, And pain and death are fled at last, There with the Lamb of God we dwell, He leads us to the crystal river, He wipes away all tears for ever; What there is ours no tongue can tell. Hunger nor thirst can pain us there, The time of recompense is come, Nor cold nor scorching heat we bear, Safe sheltered in our Saviour's home. The Lamb is in the midst; and those Who followed Him through shame and woes, Are crowned with honour, joy, and peace. The dry bones gather life again, One Sabbath over all shall reign, Wherein all toil and labour cease. There is untroubled calm and light, No gnawing care shall mar our rest; Ye weary, heed this word aright, Come, lean upon your Saviour's breast. Fain would I linger here no more, Fain to yon happier world upsoar, And join that bright expectant band. Oh raise, my soul, the joyful song That rings through yon triumphant throng; Thy perfect rest is nigh at hand. Languages: English

Now rests her soul in Jesu's arms

Author: Allendorf; Catherine Winkworth Hymnal: LG1861 #103 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8.8 Lyrics: Now rests her soul in Jesu's arms, Her body in the grave sleeps well, His heart her death-chilled heart re-warms, And rest more deep than tongue can tell, Her few brief hours of conflict passed,— She finds with Christ, her Friend, at last; She bathes in tranquil seas of peace, God wipes away her tears, she feels New life that all her languor heals, The glory of the Lamb she sees. She hath escaped all danger now, Her pain and sighing all are fled; The crown of joy is on her brow, Eternal glories o'er her shed, In golden robes, a queen, a bride, She standeth at her Sovereign's side, She sees His face unveiled and bright; With joy and love He greets her soul, She feels herself made inly whole, A lesser light amid His light. The child hath now its Father seen, And feels what kindling love may be, And knoweth what those words may mean, "Himself, the Father, loveth thee." A shoreless ocean, an abyss Unfathomed, filled with good and bliss, Now breaks on her enraptured sight; She sees God's face, she learneth there What this shall be, to be His heir, Joint-heir with Christ, her Lord, in light. The body rests, its labours over, And sleeps till Christ shall bid it wake; The dust that earth and darkness cover, Then as a sun its tomb shall break. Ah, with what joy it rises then To meet the perfect soul again! Redeemed from death, no more to sever, At that great marriage feast shall they With all the saints their homage pay, And worship there the Lamb for ever. We who yet wander through the waste, In faith long after Thee on high; While here the bread of tears we taste, We think upon that home of joy, Where we (who knows how soon?) shall meet With all the saints at Jesu's feet, And dwell with Him for ever there. We shall see God; how deep the bliss We know not yet that lies in this; Lord Jesus, come, our hearts prepare! Languages: English

Eternity! Eternity!

Author: Wülffer; Catherine Winkworth Hymnal: LG1861 #11 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8.8 Lyrics: Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! And yet to thee Time hastes away, Like as the warhorse to the fray, Or swift as couriers homeward go, Or ship to port, or shaft from bow. Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! For ever as on a perfect sphere End nor beginning can appear, Even so, Eternity, in thee Entrance nor exit can there be. Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! A circle infinite art thou, Thy centre an Eternal Now, Never, we name thy outer bound, For never end therein is found. Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! A little bird with fretting beak Might wear to nought the loftiest peak, Though but each thousand years it came, Yet thou wert then, as now, the same. Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! As long as God is God, so long Endure the pains of sin and wrong, So long the joys of heaven remain; Oh lasting joy, Oh lasting pain! Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! O man, full oft thy thoughts should dwell Upon the pains of sin and hell, And on the glories of the pure, That both beyond all time endure. Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! How terrible art thou in woe, How fair where joys for ever glow! God's goodness sheddeth gladness here, His justice there wakes bitter fear. Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! They who lived poor and naked rest With God, for ever rich and blest, And love and praise the Highest Good, In perfect bliss and gladsome mood. Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! A moment lasts all joy below, Whereby man sinks to endless woe, A moment lasts all earthly pain, Whereby an endless joy we gain. Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! Who ponders oft on thee, is wise, All fleshly lusts will he despise, The world finds place with him no more; The love of vain delights is o'er. Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! Who marks thee well would say to God, Here judge, burn, smite me with Thy rod, Here let me all Thy justice bear, When time of grace is past, then spare! Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Eternity! Eternity! How long art thou, Eternity! Lo, I, Eternity, warn thee, O Man, that oft thou think on me, The sinner's punishment and pain, To them who love their God, rich gain! Ponder, O Man, Eternity! Languages: English

Leave God to order all thy ways

Author: Catherine Winkworth; Neumarck Hymnal: LG1861 #64 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8 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. Languages: English

Oh well for him who all things braves

Author: Anon.; Catherine Winkworth Hymnal: LG1861 #70 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8 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. Languages: English

When the last agony draws nigh

Author: Catherine Winkworth; Anon. Hymnal: LG1861 #96 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8 Lyrics: When the last agony draws nigh, My spirit sinks in bitter fear: Courage! I conquer though I die, For Christ with Death once wrestled here. Thy strife, O Christ, with Death's dark power Upholds me in this fearful hour. In faith I hide myself in Thee, I shall not perish in the strife; I share Thy war, Thy victory, And Death is swallowed up in Life. Thy strife, O Christ, with Death of yore Hath conquered, and I fear no more. Languages: English

Lord Jesus Christ, true Man and God

Author: Catherine Winkworth; Paul Eber Hymnal: LG1861 #97 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8 Lyrics: Lord Jesus Christ, true Man and God, Who borest anguish, scorn, the rod, And diedst at last upon the tree, To bring Thy Father's grace to me; I pray Thee through that bitter woe, With me, a sinner, mercy know. When comes the hour of failing breath, And I must wrestle, Lord, with death, When from my sight all fades away, And when my tongue no more can say, And when mine ears no more can hear, And when my heart is racked with fear; When all my mind is darkened o'er, And human help can do no more, Then come, Lord Jesus, come with speed, And help me in my hour of need, Lead me from this dark vale beneath, And shorten then the pangs of death. All evil spirits drive away, But let Thy Spirit with me stay Until my soul the body leave; Then in Thy hands my soul receive, And let the earth my body keep, Till the Last day shall break its sleep. Joyful my resurrection be, Thou in the Judgment plead for me, And hide my sins, Lord, from Thy face, And give me Life of Thy dear grace! I trust Thee utterly, my Lord, For Thou hast promised in Thy Word: "In truth I tell you, who receives My word, and keeps it, and believes, Shall never fall God's wrath beneath, Shall never taste eternal death; Though here on earth, in time, he die, He is not therefore lost; for I Will come, and with a mighty hand Will break away Death's strongest band, And lift him hence that he shall be For ever in my realm with Me, For ever living there in bliss." Ah let us not that glory miss! Dear Lord, forgive us all our guilt, Help us to wait until Thou wilt That we depart; and let our faith Be brave and conquer e'en in death, Firm resting on Thy sacred Word, Until we sleep in Thee, our Lord. Languages: English

Awake, thou careless world, awake!

Author: Catherine Winkworth; Rist Hymnal: LG1861 #2 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8.9.8.8.9 Lyrics: Awake, thou careless world, awake! The final day shall surely come; What Heaven hath fixed Time cannot shake, It cannot sweep away thy doom. Know, what the Lord Himself hath spoken Shall come at last and not delay; Though heaven and earth shall pass away, His steadfast word can ne'er be broken. Awake! He comes to judgment, wake! Sinners, behold His countanance In beauty terrible, and quake Condemned beneath His piercing glance. Lo! He to whom all power is given, Who sits at God's right hand on high, In fire and thunder draweth nigh, To judge all nations under heaven. Awake, thou careless world, awake! Who knows how soon our God shall please That suddenly that day should break? We fathom not such depths as these. Oh guard thee well from lust and greed; For as the bird is in the snare, Or ever of its foe aware, So comes that day with silent speed. The Lord in love delayeth long The final day, and grants us space To turn away from sin and wrong, And mourning seek His help and grace. He holdeth back that best of days, Until the righteous shall approve Their faith and hope, their constant love; So gentle us-ward are His ways! But ye, O faithful souls, shall see That morning rise in love and joy; Your Saviour comes to set you free, Your Judge shall all your bonds destroy: He, the true Joshua, then shall bring His people with a mighty hand Into their promised father-land, Where songs of victory they shall sing. Rejoice! The fig-tree shows her green, The sprining year is in its prime, The little flowers afresh are seen, We gather strength in this great time; The glorious summer draweth near, When all this body's earthly load, In light that morning sheds abroad, Shall wax as sunshine pure and clear. Arise, and let us day and night Pray in the Spirit ceaselessly, That we may heed our Lord aright, And ever in His presence be; Arise, and let us haste to meet The Bridegroom standing at the door, That with the angels evermore We too may worship at His feet. Languages: English

If Thou, True Life, wilt in me live

Author: Catherine Winkworth; Sinold Hymnal: LG1861 #8 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8.9.9.8.8.8.8 Lyrics: If Thou, True Life, wilt in me live, Consume whate'er is not of Thee; One look of Thine more joy can give Than all the world can offer me. O Jesus, be Thou mine for ever, Nought from thy love my heart can sever, As Thou hast promised in Thy Word; Oh deep the joy whereof I drink, Whene'er my soul in Thee can sink, And own her Bridegroom and her Lord! O Heart, that glowed with love and died, Kindle my soul with fire divine; Lord, in the heart Thou'st won, abide, And all in it that is not Thine Oh let me conquer and destroy, Strong in Thy love, Thou Fount of Joy, Nay, be Thou conqueror, Lord, in me; So shall I triumph o'er despair, O'er death itself Thy victory share, Thus suffer, live, and die in Thee. And let the fire within me move My heart to serve Thy members here; Let me their need and trials prove, That I may know my love sincere And like to Thine, Lord, pure and warm; For when my soul hath won that form Is likest to Thy holy mind, Then I shall love both friends and foes, And learn to grieve o'er others' woes, Like Thee, my Pattern, true and kind. The light and strength of Faith, oh grant, That I may bring forth holy fruit, A living branch, a blooming plant, Fast clinging to my vine--my root: Thou art my Saviour, whom I trust, My Rock,--I build not on the dust, — The ground of faith, eternal, sure. When hours of doubt o'ercloud my mind, Thy ready help then let me find, Thy strength my sickening spirit cure! And grant that Hope may never fail, But anchored safely on Thy cross, Through Thee who art mine All, prevail O'er every anguish, dread, and loss. The world may build on what decays, O Christ, my Sun of Hope, my gaze Cares not o'er lesser lights to range; To Thee in love I ever cleave, For well I know Thou ne'er wilt leave My soul,--Thy love can never change. Wouldst Thou that I should tarry here, I live because Thou willest it; Or Death should suddenly appear, I shall not fear him, Lord, one whit, If but Thy life still in me live, If but Thy death my strength shall give, When earthly life draws near its end; To Thee I give away my will, In life and death remembering still Thou wilt my good, O truest Friend. Languages: English

From Heaven above to earth I come

Author: Catherine Winkworth; Luther Hymnal: LG1861 #5 (1861) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: From Heaven above to earth I come To bear good news to every home; Glad tidings of great joy I bring Whereof I now will say and sing: To you this night is born a child Of Mary, chosen mother mild; This little child, of lowly birth, Shall be the joy of all your earth. 'Tis Christ our God who far on high Hath heard your sad and bitter cry; Himself will your Salvation be, Himself from sin will make you free. He brings those blessings, long ago Prepared by God for all below; Henceforth His kingdom open stands To you, as to the angel bands. These are the tokens ye shall mark, The swaddling clothes and manger dark; There shall ye find the young child laid, By whom the heavens and earth were made. Now let us all with gladsome cheer Follow the shepherds, and draw near To see this wondrous gift of God Who hath His only Son bestowed. Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes! Who is it in yon manger lies? Who is this child so young and fair? The blessed Christ-child lieth there. Welcome to earth, Thou noble guest, Through whom e'en wicked men are blest! Thou com'st to share our misery, What can we render, Lord, to Thee! Ah, Lord, who hast created all, How hast Thou made Thee weak and small, That Thou must choose Thy infant bed Where ass and ox but lately fed! Were earth a thousand times as fair, Beset with gold and jewels rare, She yet were far too poor to be A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee. For velvets soft and silken stuff Thou hast but hay and straw so rough, Whereon Thou King, so rich and great, As 'twere Thy heaven, art throned in state. Thus hath it pleased Thee to make plain The truth to us poor fools and vain, That this world's honour, wealth and might Are nought and worthless in Thy sight. Ah! dearest Jesus, Holy Child, Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled, Within my heart, that it may be A quiet chamber kept for Thee. My heart for very joy doth leap, My lips no more can silence keep; I too must sing with joyful tongue That sweetest ancient cradle-song- Glory to God in highest Heaven, Who unto man His Son hath given! While angels sing with pious mirth A glad New Year to all the earth. Languages: English