O, bliss of the purified! Bliss of the free!
I’m plunged in the crimson tide opened for me!
O’er sin and uncleanness exulting I stand,
And point to the prints of the nails in His hand.
O sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love,
Sing of His mighty love, mighty to save.
O, bliss of the purified! Jesus is mine,
No longer in dread condemnation I pine;
In conscious salvation I sing of His grace,
Who lifteth upon me the smiles of His face.
O, bliss of the purified! bliss of the pure!
No wound hath the soul that His blood cannot cure,
No sorrow bowed head but may sweetly find rest,
No tears but may dry them on Jesus’s breast.
O, Jesus the crucified! Thee will I sing!
My blessed redeemer! my God and my King!
My soul filled with rapture shall shout o’er the grave,
And triumph in death in the Mighty To Save.
Almighty King! Whose wondrous hand
Supports the weight of sea and land;
Whose grace is such a boundless store,
No heart shall break that sighs for more.
Thy providence supplies my food,
And ‘tis Thy blessing makes it good;
My soul is nourished by Thy word:
Let soul and body praise the Lord!
My streams of outward comfort came
From Him who built this earthly frame;
Whate’er I want His bounty gives,
By Whom my soul forever lives.
Either His hand preserves from pain,
Or, if I feel it, heals again;
From Satan’s malice shields my breast,
Or overrules it for the best.
Forgive the song that falls so low
Beneath the gratitude I owe;
It means Thy praise, however poor;
An angel’s song can do no more.
The love of God is greater far
Than tongue or pen can ever tell.
It goes beyond the highest star
And reaches to the lowest hell.
The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
God gave His Son to win;
His erring child He reconciled
And pardoned from his sin.
O love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure—
The saints’ and angels’ song.
When years of time shall pass away,
And earthly thrones and kingdoms fall;
When men who here refuse to pray,
On rocks and hills and mountains call;
God’s love, so sure, shall still endure,
All measureless and strong;
Redeeming love from Heav’n above;
The saints’ and angels’ song.
Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made;
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.
The Lord Jehovah Reigns,
And royal state maintains,
His head with awful glories crowned.
Arrayed in robes of light,
Begirt with sov’reign might,
And rays of majesty around.
Upheld by thy command,
Thy world securely stands,
And skies and stars obey thy word:
Thy throne was fixed on high,
Before the starry sky,
Eternal is thy kingdom Lord.
In vain the noisy crowd,
Like billows fierce and loud,
Against Thine empire rage and roar;
In vain with angry spite
The surly nations fight,
And dash like waves against the shore.
Let floods and nations rage,
And all their powers engage,
Let swelling tides assault the sky;
The terrors of Thy frown
Shall beat their madness down;
Thy throne forever stands on high.
Awake! Awake! And sing the blessed story;
Awake! Awake! And let your song of praise arise;
Awake! Awake! The earth is full of glory,
And light is beaming from the radiant skies;
The rocks and rills, the vales and hills resound with gladness,
All nature joins to sing the triumph song.
The Lord Jehovah reigns and sin is backward hurled!
Rejoice! Rejoice! Lift heart and voice, Jehovah reigns!
Proclaim His sov’reign pow’r to all the world
And let His glor’ous banner be unfurled! Jehovah reigns!
Rejoice! Rejoice! Rejoice! Jehovah reigns!
Ring out! Ring out! O bells of joy and gladness!
Repeat, repeat, anew the story o’er again,
Till all the earth shall lose its weight of sadness,
And shout anew the glorious refrain;
With angels in the heights sing of the great salvation
He wrested from the hand of sin and death.
My Soul Be On Thy Guard
My soul, be on thy guard;
ten thousand foes arise;
the hosts of sin are pressing hard
to draw thee from the skies.
O watch, and fight, and pray;
the battle ne’er give o’er;
renew it boldly every day,
and help divine implore.
Ne’er think the vict’ry won,
Nor lay thine armor down;
the work of faith will not be done
till thou obtain the crown.
Fight on, my soul, till death
shall bring thee to thy God;
He’ll take thee, at thy parting breath,
To His divine abode.
Majestic sweetness sits enthroned
upon the Savior’s brow;
His head with radiant glories crowned,
His lips with grace o’erflow,
His lips with grace o’erflow.
To Christ the Lord let every tongue
His chosen tribute bring.
If He’s the subject of the song,
Who can refuse to sing,
Who can refuse to sing?
Survey the beauties of His face,
And on His glories dwell;
Think of the wonders of His grace,
And all His triumphs tell,
And all His triumphs tell.
No mortal can with Him compare,
among the sons of men;
fairer is He than all the fair
That fill the heav’nly train,
That fill the heav’nly train.
He saw me plunged in deep distress
And flew to my relief;
For me He bore the shameful cross
And carried all my grief,
And carried all my grief.
To Him I owe my life and breath,
and all the joys I have;
He makes me triumph over death,
And saves me from the grave,
And saves me from the grave.
Since from His bounty I receive
Such proofs of love divine,
Had I a thousand hearts to give,
Lord, they should all be Thine,
Lord, they should all be Thine.
I hear the Savior say,
“Thy strength indeed is small,
Child of weakness, watch and pray,
Find in Me thine all in all.”
Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.
Lord, now indeed I find
Thy pow’r and Thine alone,
Can change the leper’s spots
And melt the heart of stone.
For nothing good have I
Where-by Thy grace to claim;
I’ll wash my garments white
In the blood of Calv’ry’s Lamb.
And when, before the throne,
I stand in Him complete,
“Jesus died my soul to save,”
My lips shall still repeat.
Rejoice ye pure in heart;
Rejoice, give thanks, and sing;
Your glorious banner wave on high,
The cross of Christ your King.
Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice,
Give thanks and sing.
Bright youth and snow crowned age,
Strong men and maidens meek,
Raise high your free, exultant song,
God’s wondrous praises speak.
With all the angel choirs,
With all the saints of earth,
Pour out the strains of joy and bliss,
True rapture, noblest mirth.
With voice as full and strong
As ocean’s surging praise,
Send forth the hymns our fathers loved,
The psalms of ancient days.
Yes, on through life’s long path,
Still chanting as ye go;
From youth to age, by night and day,
In gladness and in woe.
At last the march shall end;
The wearied ones shall rest;
The pilgrims find their Father’s house,
Jerusalem the blessed.
Then on, ye pure in heart!
Rejoice, give thanks and sing!
Your glorious banner wave on high,
The cross of Christ your King.
Tell me the story of Jesus,
write on my heart every word;
tell me the story most precious,
sweetest that ever was heard.
Tell how the angels, in chorus,
sang as they welcomed His birth,
“Glory to God in the highest!
Peace and good tidings to earth.”
Tell me the story of Jesus,
write on my heart every word;
tell me the story most precious,
sweetest that ever was heard.
Fasting alone in the desert,
tell of the days that are past;
how for our sins He was tempted,
yet was triumphant at last.
Tell of the years of His labor,
tell of the sorrow He bore;
He was despised and afflicted,
homeless, rejected and poor.
Tell of the cross where they nailed Him,
writhing in anguish and pain;
tell of the grave where they laid Him,
tell how He liveth again.
Love in that story so tender,
clearer than ever I see:
stay, let me weep while you whisper,
love paid the ransom for me.
To God the only wise,
our Savior and our King,
let all the saints below the skies
their humble praises bring.
’Tis His almighty love,
His counsel and His care,
preserves us safe from sin and death,
and ev’ry hurtful snare.
He will present His saints
unblemished and complete,
before the glory of His face,
with joys divinely great.
Then all the chosen race
shall meet around the throne,
shall bless the conduct of His grace,
And make His wonders known.
To our Redeemer God
wisdom and pow’r belong,
immortal crowns of majesty,
and everlasting songs.
When overwhelmed with doubts and fear,
Great God, do Thou my spirit cheer;
Let not mine eyes with tears be fed,
But to the Rock of Ages led.
When storms of sin and sorrow beat,
Lead me to this divine retreat;
Thy perfect righteousness and blood,
My rock, my Fortress and my God.
When guilt lies heavy on my soul,
And waves of fierce temptation roll;
I’ll to the Rock for shelter flee,
And take my refuge, Lord in Thee.
When called the vale of Death to tread,
Then to the rock may I be led;
Nor fear to cross that gloomy sea,
Since Thou hast tasted death for me.
Alas! and did my Savior bleed?
And did my Sov’reign die,
Would He devote His sacred head
For such a worm as I?
He loves me, He loves me,
He loves me this I know!
He gave Himself to die for me
Because He loves me so!
Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!
Well might the sun in darkness hide,
And shut his glories in,
When Christ, the mighty Maker died
For man, the creature’s sin.
Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears.
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt mine eyes to tears.
But drops of grief can ne’er repay
The debt of love I owe;
Here Lord, I give myself away:
’Tis all that I can do.
Break Thou the Bread of Life, dear Lord, to me,
As Thou didst break the loaves beside the sea;
Beyond the sacred page I seek Thee, Lord;
My spirit pants for Thee, O Living Word.
Bless Thou the truth, dear Lord, To me, to me,
As Thou didst bless the bread by Galilee;
Then shall all bondage cease, all fetters fall,
And I shall find my peace, my All in all.
Thou art the Bread of Life, O Lord, to me,
Thy holy Word the truth that saveth me;
Give me to eat and live with Thee above;
Teach me to love Thy truth, for Thou art Love.
O, send Thy Spirit, Lord, Now unto me,
That He may touch my eyes and make me see;
Show me the truth concealed within Thy Word,
And in Thy Book revealed I see Thee Lord.
Savior, like a shepherd lead us,
Much we need Thy tender care;
In Thy pleasant pastures feed us,
For our use Thy folds prepare:
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Thou hast bought us, Thine we are;
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Thou hast bought us, Thine we are.
We are Thine, do Thou befriend us,
Be the guardian of our way;
Keep Thy flock, from sin defend us,
Seek us when we go astray:
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Hear, O hear us when we pray;
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Hear, O hear us when we pray.
Thou hast promised to receive us,
Poor and sinful though we be;
Thou hast mercy to relieve us,
Grace to cleanse, and pow’r to free:
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Early let us turn to Thee;
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Early let us turn to Thee.
Early let us seek Thy favor,
Early let us do Thy will;
Blessed Lord and only Savior,
With Thy love our bosoms fill:
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Thou hast loved us, love us still;
Blessed Jesus, blessed Jesus,
Thou hast loved us, love us still.
Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
That calls me from a world of care,
And bids me at my Father’s throne
Make all my wants and wishes known.
In seasons of distress and grief,
My soul has often found relief,
And oft escaped the tempter’s snare,
By thy return, sweet hour of prayer!
Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
The joys I feel, the bliss I share,
Of those whose anxious spirits burn
With strong desires for thy return!
With such I hasten to the place
Where God my Savior shows His face,
And gladly take my station there,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!
Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
Thy wings shall my petition bear
To Him whose truth and faithfulness
Engage the waiting soul to bless.
And since He bids me seek His face,
Believe His Word and trust His grace,
I’ll cast on Him my every care,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!
Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
May I thy consolation share,
Till, from Mount Pisgah’s lofty height,
I view my home and take my flight.
This robe of flesh I’ll drop, and rise
To seize the everlasting prize,
And shout, while passing through the air,
“Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer!”