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Here is our collection of music for funerals.
Sorted alphabetically by title or first line
Amazing grace how sweet the soundThat saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but now I'm found, Was blind, but now I see. 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, And grace my fears relieved; How precious did that grace appear, The hour I first believed! Through many dangers, toils and snares, We have already come; 'Tis grace has brought me safe thus far, And grace will lead me home. The Lord has promised good to me, His word my hope secures; He will my shield and portion be, As long as life endures. Yes, when this flesh and heart shall fail, And mortal life shall cease; I shall possess, within the veil, A life of joy and peace. The earth shall soon dissolve like snow, The sun forbear to shine; But God, who call'd me here below, Will be forever mine.
John Newton, Rector of St Mary Woolnoth, Lombard Street in London (1725 - 1807)
Abide with Me
ABIDE with me; fast falls the eventide; The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me.
Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away; Change and decay in all around I see; O Thou who changest not, abide with me.
I need Thy presence every passing hour. What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power? Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.
I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes; Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies. Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee; In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.
Henry F. Lyte, Anglican divine and hymn writer (1793 - 1847)
Alleluya, sing to Jesus
ALLELUYA, sing to Jesus,His the sceptre, his the throne;Alleluya, his the triumph,His the victory alone:Hark the songs of peaceful SionThunder like a mighty flood;Jesus, out of every nation,Hath redeemed us by his Blood.
Alleluya, not as orphansAre we left in sorrow now;Alleluya, he is near us,Faith believes, nor questions how;Though the cloud from sight received himWhen the forty days were o'er,Shall our hearts forget his promise,'I am with you evermore'?
Alleluya, Bread of AngelsThou on earth our Food, our Stay;Alleluya, here the sinfulFlee to thee from day to day;Intercessor, Friend of sinners,Earth's Redeemer, plead for me,Where the songs of all the sinlessSweep across the crystal sea.
Alleluya, King eternal,Thee the Lord of lords we own:Alleluya, born of Mary,Earth thy footstool, Heaven thy throne:Thou within the veil hast entered,Robed in flesh, our great High Priest;Thou on earth both Priest and VictimIn the Eucharistic Feast.
William Chatterton Dix, businessman and hymn writer (1837 - 1898)
All things bright and beautiful
ALL things bright and beautiful,All creatures great and small,All things wise and wonderful,The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,Each little bird that sings,He made their glowing colours,He made their tiny wings.ALL things bright and beautiful,All creatures great and small,All things wise and wonderful,The Lord God made them all.
The purple-headed mountain,The river running by,The sunset and the morning,That brightens up the sky;ALL things bright and beautiful,All creatures great and small,All things wise and wonderful,The Lord God made them all.
The cold wind in the winter,The pleasant summer sun,The ripe fruits of the garden,He made them every one.ALL things bright and beautiful,All creatures great and small,All things wise and wonderful,The Lord God made them all.
The tall trees in the greenwood,The meadows for our play,The rushes by the water,To gather every day;ALL things bright and beautiful,All creatures great and small,All things wise and wonderful,The Lord God made them all.
He gave us eyes to see them,And lips that we might tellHow great is God Almighty,Who has made all things well.ALL things bright and beautiful,All creatures great and small,All things wise and wonderful,The Lord God made them all.
Cecil F. Alexander, Irish poet and hymn writer (1818 - 1895)
All people that on earth do dwell
ALL people that on earth do dwell,Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice;Him serve with fear, his praise forth tell,Come ye before him, and rejoice.The Lord, ye know, is God indeed,Without our aid, he did us make;We are his folks, he doth us feed,And for his sheep he doth us take.O enter then his gates with praise,Approach with joy his courts unto;Praise, laud, and bless his name always,For it is seemly so to do.For why? The Lord our God is good:His mercy is for ever sure;His truth at all times firmly stood,And shall from age to age endure.To Father, Son and Holy Ghost,The God who heaven and earth adore,From men and from the Angel-hostBe praise and glory evermore. AmenWilliam Kethe, Daye's Psalter (1562)
As pants the hart for cooling streams
AS pants the hart for cooling streamsWhen heated in the chase,So longs my soul, O God, for thee,And thy refreshing grace.For thee, my God, the living God,My thirsty soul doth pine:O when shall I behold thy face,Thou Majesty Divine!Why restless, why cast down, my soul?Hope still, and thou shalt singThe praise of him who is thy God,Thy health's eternal spring.To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,The God whom we adore,Be glory, as it was, is now,And shall be evermore. Amen.Nahum Tate, Irish Protestant poet, hymnist and lyricist (1652 – 1715)Nicholas Brady, poet and Church of England clergyman (1659 – 1726)
Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart
BE thou my vision, O Lord of my heart,Be all else but naught to me, save that thou art,Be thou my best thought in the day and the night,Both waking and sleeping, thy presence my light.
Be thou my vision, be thou my true word,Be thou ever with me, and I with thee, Lord,Be thou my great Father, and I thy true son,Be thou in me dwelling, and I with thee one.
Be thou my breastplate, my sword for the fight,Be thou my whole armour, be thou my true might,Be thou my soul's shelter, be thou my strong tower,O raise thou me heavenward, great Power of my power.
Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,Be thou my inheritance now and always,Be thou and thou only the first in my heart,O Sovereign of heaven, my treasure thou art.
High King of heaven, thou heaven's bright sun,O grant me its joys after vict'ry is won,Great heart of my own heart, whatever befall,Still be thou my vision, O Ruler of all.Words attributed to Dallan Forgaill in the 8th CenturyTranslated from the ancient Irish, Mary Byrne (1880 - 1931)Versed, Eleanor Hull (1860 - 1935)
Note: sung at the service of thanksgiving for the life of Diana, Princess of Wales in 2007.
Blest are the pure in heart
BLEST are the pure in heart,For they shall see our God,The secret of the Lord is theirs,Their soul is Christ's abode.
The Lord, who left the heavensOur life and peace to bring,To dwell in lowliness with men,Their Pattern and their King;
Still to the lowly soulHe doth himself impart,And for his dwelling and his throneChooseth the pure in heart.
Lord, we thy presence seek;May ours this blessing be;Give us a pure and lowly heart,A temple meet for thee.
John Keble, clergyman and writer (1792 - 1866)
Christ, whose glory fills the skies
CHRIST, whose glory fills the skies,Christ, the true, the only Light,Sun of Righteousness, arise,Triumph o'er the shades of night;Dayspring from on high, be near;Daystar, in my heart appear. Dark and cheerless is the mornUnaccompanied by thee;Joyless is the day's return,Till thy mercy's beams I see;Till they inward light impart,Glad my eyes, and warm my heart. Visit then this soul of mine,Pierce the gloom of sin and grief;Fill me, Radiancy Divine,Scatter all my unbelief;More and more Thyself display,Shining to the perfect day. Charles Wesley, Methodist hymn writer and preacher (1707 – 1788)
Dear Lord and Father of mankind
DEAR Lord and Father of mankind,Forgive our foolish ways!Re-cloth us in our rightful mind,In purer lives thy service find,In deeper reverence praise.
In simple trust like theirs who heard,Beside the Syrian sea,The gracious calling of the Lord,Let us, like them, without a wordRise up and follow thee.
O Sabbath rest by Galilee!O calm of hills above,Where Jesus knelt to share with theeThe silence of eternity,Interpreted by love!
Drop thy still dews of quietness,Till all our strivings cease;Take from our souls the strain and stress,And let our ordered lives confessThe beauty of thy peace.
Breathe through the heats of our desireThy coolness and thy balm;Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire,O still small voice of calm!
John G. Whittier, American poet and political consultant (1807 - 1892)
For those in peril on the sea
ETERNAL Father, strong to save,Whose arm doth bind the restless wave,Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deepIts own appointed limits keep;O hear us when we cry to theeFor those in peril on the sea.
O Saviour, whose almighty wordThe winds and waves submissive heard,Who walkedst on the foaming deep,And calm amid its rage didst sleep:O hear us when we cry to theeFor those in peril on the sea.
O sacred Spirit, who didst broodUpon the chaos dark and rude,Who bad'st its angry tumult cease,And gavest light and life and peace:O hear us when we cry to theeFor those in peril on the sea.
O Trinity of love and power,Our brethren shield in danger's hour;From rock and tempest, fire and foe,Protect them whereso'er they go:And ever let there rise to theeGlad hymns of praise from land and sea.
William Whiting, school teacher and writer (1825 - 1878)
Note: Often known as the Royal Navy hymn or by the last line of the first three verses 'For those in peril on the sea.'
Fight the good fight with all thy might
FIGHT the good fight with all thy might,Christ is thy strength, and Christ thy right;Lay hold on life, and it shall beThe joy and crown eternally.
Run the straight race through God's good grace,Lift up thine eyes, and seek his face;Life with its way before us lies,Christ is the path, and Christ the prize.
Cast care aside, upon thy GuideLean, and his mercy will provide;Lean, and the trusting soul will proveChrist is its life, and Christ its love.
Faint not nor fear, his arms are near,He changeth not, and thou art dear;Only believe, and thou shalt seeThat Christ is all in all to thee.
John Monsell, Rector of St Nicholas, Guildford (1811 - 1875)
For all the Saints who from their labours rest
FOR all the Saints who from their labours rest,Who thee by faith before the world confest,Thy name, O Jesu, be for ever blest.Alleluya!
Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress, and their Might;Thou, Lord, their Captain in the well-fought fight;Thou in the darkness drear their one true Light.Alleluya!
O may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,Fight as the Saints who nobly fought of old,And win, with them, the victor's crown of gold.Alleluya!
And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,Steals on the ear the distant triumph-song,And hearts are brave again, and arms are strong.Alleluya!
The golden evening brightens in the west;Soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest:Sweet is the calm of Paradise the blest.Alleluya!
Bishop W. W. How (1823 - 1897)
Firmly I believe and truly
FIRMLY I believe and trulyGod is Three, and God is One;And I next acknowledge dulyManhood taken by the Son. And I trust and hope most fullyIn that Manhood crucified;And each thought and deed unrulyDo to death, as He has died. Simply to His grace and whollyLight and life and strength belong,And I love supremely, solely,Him the Holy, Him the Strong. And I hold in veneration,For the love of Him alone,Holy Church as His creation,And her teachings as His own. Adoration ay be given,With and through the angelic host,To the God of earth and heaven,Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen. John Newman, Anglican theologian who converted to Catholicism and later became a Cardinal (1801 - 1890)
Guide me, O thou great Redeemer
GUIDE me, O thou great Redeemer,Pilgrim through this barren land;I am weak, but thou art mighty,Hold me with thy powerful hand:Bread of heaven,Feed me till I want no more.
Open now the crystal fountain,Whence the healing stream doth flow;Let the fire and cloudy pillarLead me all my journey through:Strong Deliverer,Be thou still my strength and shield.
When I tread the verge of Jordan,Bid my anxious fears subside;Death of death, and hell's Destruction,Land me safe on Canaan's side:Songs of praisesI will ever give to thee.
Original Welsh words, William Williams, Welsh Methodist preacher and writer (1717 - 1791)Translated, Peter Williams (1727 - 1796) and othersHymn tune, John Hughes (1873 - 1932)
Note: sung at the funeral of HM Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother in 2002 and at the service of thanksgiving for the life of Diana, Princess of Wales in 2007.
Glorious things of thee are spoken
GLORIOUS things of thee are spoken,Sion, city of our God!He whose word cannot be brokenFormed thee for his own abode:On the Rock of Ages founded,What can shake thy sure repose?With salvation's walls surrounded,Thou may'st smile at all thy foes.
See, the streams of living water,Springing from eternal love,Well supply thy sons and daughters,And all fear of want remove:Who can faint while such a riverEver flows their thirst to assuage?Grace, which like the Lord the Giver,Never fails from age to age.
Saviour, if of Sion's cityI, through grace, a member am,Let the world deride or pity,I will glory in thy name:Fading is the worldling's pleasure,All his boasted pomp and show;Solid joys and lasting treasureNone but Sion's children know.
John Newton, Rector of St Mary Woolnoth, Lombard Street in London (1725 – 1807)
How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
HOW sweet the name of Jesus soundsIn a believer's ear!It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,And drives away his fear.
It makes the wounded spirit whole,And calms the troubled breast;'Tis manna to the hungry soul,And to the weary rest.
Dear name! the rock on which I build,My shield and hiding place,My never-failing treasury filledWith boundless stores of grace.
Jesus! My Shepherd, Husband, Friend,My Prophet, Priest and King,My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,Accept the praise I bring.
Weak is the effort of my heart,And cold my warmest thought;But when I see thee as thou art,I'll praise thee as I ought.
Till then I would thy love proclaimWith every fleeting breath;And may the music of thy nameRefresh my soul in death.
John Newton, Rector of St Mary Woolnoth, Lombard Street in London (1725 - 1807)
He who would valiant be
HE who would valiant be'Gainst all disaster, Let him in constancyFollow the Master.There's no discouragementShall make him once relentHis first avowed intentTo be a pilgrim.
Who so beset him roundWith dismal stories,Do but themselves confound –His strength the more is.No foes shall stay his might,Though he with giants fight:He will make good his rightTo be a pilgrim.
Since, Lord, thou dost defendUs with thy SpiritWe know we at the endShall life inherit.Then fancies flee away!I'll fear not what men say,I'll labour night and dayTo be a pilgrim.
John Bunyan, Christian writer and preacher (1628 – 1688) and others
I heard the voice of Jesus say
I HEARD the voice of Jesus say,'Come unto me and rest;Lay down, thou weary one, lay downThy head upon my breast:'I came to Jesus as I was,Weary, and worn, and sad;I found in him a resting-place,And he has made me glad.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,'Behold, I freely giveThe living water, thirsty one;Stoop down, and drink, and live:'I came to Jesus, and I drankOf that life-giving stream;My thirst was quenched, my soul revived,And now I live in him.
I heard the voice of Jesus say,'I am this dark world's Light;Look unto me, thy morn shall rise,And all thy day be bright:'I looked to Jesus, and I foundIn him my Star, my Sun;And in that light of life I'll walkTill travelling days are done.
Horatius Bonar, Minister of the Chalmers Memorial Church, Edinburgh (1808 - 1889)
I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above
I VOW to thee, my country, all earthly things above,Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love:The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.
And there's another country, I've heard of long ago,Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,And her ways are ways of gentleness and all her paths are peace.
Music, Gustav Holst, composer and singing teacher (1874 - 1934)Words, Cecil Spring-Rice, career diplomat and ambassador to the US (1859 -1918)
Note: sung at the funeral of Diana, Princess of Wales in 1997 and at the service of thanksgiving for her life in 2007.
Immortal, invisible, God only wise
IMMORTAL, invisible, God only wise,In light inaccessible hid from our eyes,Most blessed, most glorious, the Ancient of Days,Almighty, victorious, thy great name we praise.
Unresting, unhasting, and silent as light,Nor wanting, nor wasting, thou rulest in might;Thy justice like mountains high soaring aboveThy clouds which are fountains of goodness and love.
To all life thou givest-to both great and small;In all life thou livest, the true life of all;We blossom and flourish as leaves on the tree,And wither and perish-but nought changeth thee.
Great Father of Glory, pure Father of Light,Thine Angels adore thee, all veiling their sight;All laud we would render: O help us to see'Tis only the splendour of light hideth thee.
Walter Chalmers Smith, Scottish poet, Minister and preacher (1824 - 1908)
Note: sung at the funeral of HM Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother in 2002.
In heavenly love abiding
IN heavenly love abiding,No change my heart shall fear.And safe in such confiding,For nothing changes here.The storm may roar without me,My heart may low be laid,But God is round about me,And can I be dismayed?
Wherever he may guide me,No want shall turn me back.My shepherd is beside me,And nothing can I lack.His wisdom ever waking,His sight is never dim.He knows the way He's taking,And I will walk with Him
Green pastures are before me,Which yet I have never seen.Bright skies will soon be over me,Where darkest clouds have been.My hope I cannot measure,My path to life is free.My Saviour has my treasure,And he will walk with me.
Words, Anna Waring (1820 - 1910)Music, Arthur Mann
AND did those feet in ancient timesWalk upon England's mountain green?And was the holy Lamb of GodOn England's pleasant pastures seen?And did the countenance divineShine forth upon our clouded hills?And was Jerusalem builded hereAmong those dark satanic mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!Bring me my arrows of desire !Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!Bring me my chariot of fire!I will not cease from mental fight,Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,Till we have built JerusalemIn England's green and pleasant land.
William Blake, poet, painter and visionary (1757 - 1827)
Just as I am, without one plea
JUST as I am, without one pleaBut that thy Blood was shed for me,And that thou bidd'st me come to thee,O Lamb of God, I come.
Just as I am, though tossed aboutWith many a conflict, many a doubt,Fightings within, and fears without,O Lamb of God, I come.
Just as I, poor, wretched, blind;Sight, riches, healing of the mind,Yea all I need, in thee to find,O Lamb of God, I come.
Just as I am, thou wilt receive,Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve:Because thy promise I believe,O Lamb of God, I come.
Just as I am (thy love unknownHas broken every barrier down),Now to be thine, yea, thine alone,O Lamb of God, I come.
Just as I am, of that free loveThe breadth, length, depth, and height to prove,Here for a season, then above,O Lamb of God, I come.
Charlotte Elliott, poet and hymn writer (1789 - 1871)
Jesu, Lover of my soul
JESU, Lover of my soul,Let me to thy bosom fly,While the nearer waters roll,While the tempest still is high:Hide me, O my Saviour, hide,Till the storm of life is past;Safe into the haven guide,O receive my soul at last.
Other refuge have I none;Hang my helpless soul on thee;Leave, ah! Leave me not alone,Still support and comfort me.All my trust on thee is stayed,All my help from thee I bring;Cover my defenceless headWith the shadow of thy wing.
Thou, O Christ, art all I want;More than all in thee I find:Raise the fallen, cheer the faint,Heal the sick, and lead the blind.Just and holy is thy name;I am all unrighteousness;False and full of sin I am,Thou art full of truth and grace.
Plenteous grace with thee is found,Grace to cover all my sin;Let the healing streams abound;Make and keep me pure within.Thou of life the fountain art;Freely let me take of thee;Spring thou up within my heart,Rise to all eternity.
Charles Wesley, Methodist hymn writer and preacher (1707 - 1788)
Jesus lives! thy terrors now
JESUS lives! thy terrors nowCan, O Death, no more appal us;Jesus lives! By this we knowThou, O grave, canst not enthral us.Alleluya
Jesus lives! henceforth is deathBut the gate of life immortal;This shall calm our trembling breath,When we pass its gloomy portal.Alleluya
Jesus lives! for us he died;Then, alone to Jesus living,Pure in heart may we abide,Glory to our Saviour giving.Alleluya
Jesus lives! our hearts know wellNought from us his love shall server;Life, nor death, nor powers of hellTear us from his keeping ever.Alleluya
Jesus lives! to him the throneOver all the world is given;May we go where he is gone,Rest and reign with him in heaven.Alleluya
C. Gellert, German poet (1715 - 1769)Translated, Frances Cox and others
Lead us, heavenly Father, lead us
LEAD us, heavenly Father, lead usO'er the world's tempestuous sea;Guard us, guide us, keep us, feed us;For we have no help but thee,Yet possessing every blessingIf our God our Father be.
Saviour! breathe forgiveness o'er us,All our weakness thou dost know,Thou didst tread this earth before us,Thou didst feel its keenest woe;Lone and dreary, faint and weary,Through the desert thou didst go.
Spirit of our God, descending,Fill our hearts with heavenly joy,Love with every passion blending,Pleasure that can never cloy:Thus provided, pardoned, guided,Nothing can our peace destroy!
James Edmeston, architect, surveyor and prolific writer of hymns (1791 - 1867)
Love Divine, all loves excelling
LOVE Divine, all loves excelling,Joy of heaven, to earth come down,Fix in us thy humble dwelling,All thy faithful mercies crown.Jesu, thou art all compassion,Pure unbounded love thou art;Visit us with thy salvation,Enter every trembling heart.
Come, Almighty to deliver,Let us all thy life receive;Suddenly return, and never,Never more thy temples leave.Thee we would be always blessing,Serve thee as thy hosts above,Pray, and praise thee, without ceasing,Glory in thy perfect love.
Finish then thy new creation,Pure and spotless let us be;Let us see thy great salvation,Perfectly restored in thee,Changed from glory into glory,Till in heaven we take our place,Till we cast our crowns before thee,Lost in wonder, love, and praise!
Love's redeeming work is done
LOVE'S redeeming work is done;Fought the fight, the battle is won:Lo, our Sun's eclipse is o'er!Lo, he sets in blood no more!
Vain the stone, the watch, the seal,Christ has burst the gates of hell;Death in vain forbids his rise;Christ has opened Paradise.
Lives again our glorious King;Where, O Death, is now thy sting?Dying once, he all doth save;Where thy victory, O grave?
Soar we now where Christ has led,Following our exalted Head;Made like him, like him we rise;Ours the cross, the grave, the skies.
Hail the Lord of earth and heaven!Praise to thee by both be given:Thee we greet triumphant now;Hail, the Resurrection thou!
Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom
LEAD, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,Lead thou me on;The night is dark, and I am far from home,Lead thou me on.Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to seeThe distant scene, one step enough for me.
I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou Shouldst lead me on;I loved to choose and see my path; but nowLead thou me on.I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.
So long thy power hath blest me, sure it stillWill lead me onO'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, tillThe night is gone,And with the morn those Angel faces smile,Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.
John Newman, Anglican theologian who converted to Catholicism and later became a Cardinal (1801 – 1890)
Let all the world in every corner sing
LET all the world in every corner sing,My God and King!The heavens are not too high,His praise may thither fly;The earth is not too low,His praises there may grow.Let all the world in every corner sing,My God and King!
LET all the world in every corner sing,My God and King!The Church with psalms must shout,No door can keep them out;But above all, the heartMust bear the longest part.Let all the world in every corner sing,My God and King!
George Herbert, MP, Deacon and poet (1593 – 1632)
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
MINE eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of Wrath are stored;He has loosed the fateful lightening of his terrible swift sword:His truth is marching on.Glory, glory Alleluia!Glory, glory Alleluia!Glory, glory Alleluia!His truth is marching on.
He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgement-seat:O be swift, my soul, to answer Him; be jubilant, my feet!Our God is marching on.Glory, glory Alleluia!Glory, glory Alleluia!Glory, glory Alleluia!Our God is marching on.
In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me,As he died to make men holy, let us live to make men freeWhile God is marching on.Glory, glory Alleluia!Glory, glory Alleluia!Glory, glory Alleluia!While God is marching on.
Julia Ward Howe, American abolitionist, social activist and poet (1819 - 1910) Note: The Battle Hymn of the Republic is an American patriot anthem written in 1861 and was popular during the American Civil War. Sung at the funeral of Sir Winston Churchill in 1965.
Morning has broken
MORNING has broken,Like the first morningBlackbird has spoken,Like the first birdPraise for the singing,Praise for the morningPraise for the springingFresh from the word.
Sweet the rain's new fall,Sunlit from heavenLike the first dewfall,On the first grassPraise for the sweetnessOf the wet gardenSprung in completenessWhere his feet pass.
Mine is the sunlight,Mine is the morningBorn of the one light,Eden saw playPraise with elation,Praise every morningGod's recreationOf the new day.
Eleanor Farjeon, writer and poet (1881 - 1965)Note: Cat Stevens included his version of the hymn in his album Teaser and the Firecat released in 1971.
Now thank we all our God
NOW thank we all our God,With hearts and hands and voices,Who wondrous things hath done,In whom his world rejoices;Who from our mother's armsHath blessed us on our wayWith countless gifts of love,And still is ours to-day.
O may this bounteous GodThrough all our life be near us,With ever joyful heartsAnd blessed peace to cheer us;And keep us in his grace,And guide us when perplexed,And free us from all illsIn this world and the next.
All praise and thanks to GodThe Father now be given,The Son, and Him who reignsWith them in highest heaven,The One eternal God,Whom earth and heaven adore;For thus it was, is now,And shall be evermore. Amen.Words, Martin Rinkart, German pastor, writer and musician (1586 - 1649)Translated, Catherine Winkworth, English translator (1827 - 1878)
Nearer, my God, to thee
NEARER, my God, to thee,Nearer to thee!E'en though it be a crossThat raiseth me:Still all my song would be,'Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee!'
Though, like the wanderer,The sun gone down,Darkness be over me,My rest a stone;Yet in my dreams I'd beNearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee!
There let the way appear,Steps unto heaven;All that thou send'st to meIn mercy given.Angels to beckon meNearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee!
Sarah Adams, poet and hymn writer (1805 – 1848)
O God, our help in ages past
O GOD, our help in ages past,Our hope for years to come,Our shelter from the stormy blast,And our eternal home;
Under the shadow of thy throneThy Saints have dwelt secure;Sufficient is thine arm alone,And our defence is sure.
Before the hills in order stood,Or earth received her frame,From everlasting thou art God,To endless years the same.
A thousand ages in thy sightAre like an evening gone,Short as the watch that ends the nightBefore the rising sun.
Time, like an ever-rolling stream,Bears all its sons away;They fly forgotten, as a dreamDies at the opening day.
O God, our help in ages past,Our hope in years to come,Be thou our guard while troubles last,And our eternal home.Isaac Watts, prolific and popular hymn writer (1674 - 1748)Note: sung at the funeral of Sir Winston Churchill in 1965.
O Jesus, I have promised
O JESUS, I have promisedTo serve thee to the end;Be thou for ever near me,My Master and my Friend:I shall not fear the battleIf thou art by my side,Nor wander from my pathwayIf thou wilt be my Guide.
O let me feel thee near me:The world is ever near;I see the sights that dazzle,The tempting sounds I hear;My foes are ever near me,Around me and within;But, Jesus, draw thou nearer,And shield my soul from sin.
O let me hear thee speakingIn accents clear and still,Above the storms of passion,The murmurs of self-will;O speak to reassure me,To hasten or control;O speak, and make me listen,Thou Guardian of my soul.
O Jesus, thou hast promisedTo all who follow thee,That where thou art in gloryThere shall thy servant be;And, Jesus, I have promisedTo serve thee to the end;O give me grace to follow,My Master and my Friend.
John Bode, Rector of All Saints Church, Castle Camps, Cambridgeshire (1816 - 1874)
O love that wilt not let me go
O LOVE that wilt not let me go,I rest my weary soul in thee;I give thee back the life I owe,That in thine ocean depthsIts flow may richer, fuller be.
O Light that followest all my way,I yield my flickering torch to thee;My heart restores its borrowed ray,That in thy sunshine's blazeIts day may brighter, fairer be.
O Joy that seeketh me through pain,I cannot close my heart to thee;I trace the rainbow through the rain,And feel the promise is not in vain,That morn shall tearless be.
O Cross that liftest up my head,I dare not ask to fly from thee;I lay in dust life's glory dead,And from the ground there blossoms redLife that shall endless be.
Words, George Matheson, parish Minister in Scotland (1842 - 1906)Music, Albert Peace, organist (1844 - 1912)
Onward, Christian soldiers
ONWARD, Christian soldiers,Marching as to war,With the Cross of JesusGoing on before.Christ the royal MasterLeads against the foe;Forward into battle,See his banners go!Onward, Christian soldiersMarching as to war,With the Cross of JesusGoing on before.
At the sign of triumphSatan's legions flee;On then, Christian soldiers,On to victory.Hell's foundations quiverAt the shout of praise;Brothers, lift your voices,Loud your anthems raise.Onward, Christian soldiersMarching as to war,With the Cross of JesusGoing on before.
Like a mighty armyMoves the Church of God;Brothers we are treadingWhere the Saints have trod;We are not divided,All one body we,One in hope and doctrine,One in charity.Onward, Christian soldiersMarching as to war,With the Cross of JesusGoing on before.
Crowns and thrones may perish,Kingdoms rise and wane,But the Church of JesusConstant will remain;Gates of hell can never'Gainst that Church prevail;We have Christ's own promise,And that cannot fail.Onward, Christian soldiersMarching as to war,With the Cross of JesusGoing on before.
Onward, then, ye people,Join our happy throng,Blend with ours your voicesIn the triumph song;Glory, laud, and honourUnto Christ the King;This through countless agesMen and Angels sing.Onward, Christian soldiersMarching as to war,With the Cross of JesusGoing on before.Sabine Baring-Gould, Rector of Lewtrenchard, Devon, antiquarian and novelist (1834 - 1924)
O worship the King
O WORSHIP the King All glorious above;O gratefully sing His power and his love:Our Shield and Defender, The Ancient of days,Pavilioned in splendour, And girded with praise.
O tell of his might, O sing of his grace,Whose robe is the light,Whose canopy space.His chariots of wrathThe deep thunder-clouds form,And dark is his pathOn the wings of the storm.
This earth, with its storeOf wonders untold,Almighty, thy powerHath founded of old:Hath stablished it fastBy a changeless decree,And round it hath cast,Like a mantle, the sea.
O measureless Might,Ineffable Love,While Angels delightTo hymn thee above,Thy humbler creation,Though feeble their lays,With true adorationShall sing to thy praise.
Sir Robert Grant, MP, hymn writer and Governor of Bombay (1779 – 1838)
Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin
PEACE, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin?The Blood of Jesus whispers peace within.
Peace, perfect peace, by thronging duties pressed?To do the will of Jesus, this is rest.
Peace, perfect peace, with sorrows surging round?On Jesus' bosom nought but calm is found.
Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away?In Jesus' keeping we are safe and they.
Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown?Jesus we know, and he is on the throne.
Peace, perfect peace, death shadowing us and ours?Jesus has vanquished death and all its powers.
It is enough: earth's struggles soon shall cease,And Jesus call us to heaven's perfect peace.
Edward Bickersteth, Bishop of Exeter and poet (1825 - 1906)
Praise, my soul, the King of heaven
PRAISE, my soul, the King of heaven;To his feet thy tribute bring.Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,Who like me his praise should sing?Praise him! Praise him!Praise the everlasting King.
Praise him for his grace and favourTo our fathers in distress;Praise him still the same as ever,Slow to chide and quick to bless.Praise him! Praise him!Glorious in his faithfulness.
Father-like, he tends and spares us;Well our feeble frame he knows;In his hands he gently bears us,Rescues us from all our foes.Praise him! Praise him!Widely as his mercy flows.
Angels, help us to adore him;Ye behold him face to face;Sun and moon, bow down before him;Dwellers all in time and space.Praise him! Praise him!Praise with us the God of grace.
Praise to the Holiest in the height
PRAISE to the Holiest in the height,And in the depth be praise,In all his words most wonderful,Most sure in all his ways.
O loving wisdom of our God!When all was sin and shame,A second Adam to the fightAnd to the rescue came.
O generous love! That he who smoteIn Man for man the foe,The double agony in ManFor man should undergo;
And in the garden secretly,And on the Cross on high,Should teach his brethren, and inspireTo suffer and to die.
Praise to the Holiest in the height,And in the depth be praise,In all his words most wonderful,Most sure in all his ways.
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation
PRAISE to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation;O my soul, praise him, for he is thy health and salvation:Come ye who hear,Brothers and sisters draw near,Praise him in glad adoration.
Praise to the Lord, who o'er all things so wondrously reigneth,Shelter thee under his wings, yea, so gently sustaineth:Hast thou not seenAll that is needful hath beenGranted in what he ordaineth?
Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work, and defend thee;Surely his goodness and mercy here daily attend thee;Ponder anewAll the Almighty can do,He who with love doth befriend thee.
Praise to the Lord! O let all that is in me adore him!All that hath life and breath come now with praises before him!Let the amenSound from his people again:Gladly for ay we adore him.
Joachim Neander, German hymn writer (1650 – 1680)Translated, Catherine Winkworth (1827 – 1878) and others
Rock of ages, cleft for me
ROCK of ages, cleft for me,Let me hide myself in thee;Let the Water and the Blood,From thy riven side which flowed,Be of sin the double cure,Cleanse me from its guilt and power.
Not the labours of my handsCan fulfil thy law's demands;Could my zeal no respite know,Could my tears for ever flow,All for sin could not atone;Thou must save, and thou alone.
Nothing in my hand I bring,Simply to the Cross I cling;Naked, come thee to dress;Helpless, look to thee for grace;Foul, I to the Fountain fly;Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
While I draw this fleeting breath,When mine eyes are closed in death,When I soar through tracts unknown,See thee on thy judgement throne;Rock of ages, cleft for me,Let me hide myself in thee.
Augustus Toplady, clergyman and poet (1740 - 1778)Note: Rock of Ages was translated into Latin, Greek and Italian by William Gladstone, Prime Minister (1809 - 1898)
The church's one foundation
THE Church's one foundationIs Jesus Christ, her Lord;She is his new creationBy water and the word:From heaven he came and sought herTo be his holy Bride,With his own Blood be bought her,And for her life he died.
Elect from every nation,Yet one o'er all the earth,Her charter of salvationOne Lord, one Faith, one Birth;One holy name she blesses,Partakes one holy Food,And to one hope she pressesWith every grace endured.
'Mid toil, and tribulation,And tumult of her war,She waits the consummationOf peace for evermore;Till with the vision gloriousHer longing eyes are blest,And the great Church victoriousShall be the Church at rest.
Yet she on earth hath unionWith God the Three in One,And mystic sweet communionWith those whose rest is won:O happy ones and holy!Lord, give us grace that weLike them, the meek and lowly,On high may dwell with thee.Samuel Stone (1839 - 1900)
The day thou gavest, Lord, is ended
THE day thou gavest, Lord, is ended,The darkness falls at thy behest;To thee our morning hymns ascended,Thy praise shall sanctify our rest.
We thank thee that thy Church unsleeping,While earth rolls onwards into light,Through all the world her watch is keeping,And rests not now by day or night.
As o'er each continent and islandThe dawn leads on another day,The voice of prayer is never silent,Nor dies the strain of praise away.
The sun that bids us rest is wakingOur brethren 'neath the western sky,And hour by hour fresh lips are makingThy wondrous doings heard on high.
So be it, Lord; thy throne shall never,Like earth's proud empires, pass away;Thy kingdom stands, grows for ever,Till all thy creatures own thy sway.
John Ellerton, hymn writer and Curate of Easebourne, West Sussex (1826 - 1893)
The King of love my Shepherd is
THE King of love my Shepherd is,Whose goodness faileth never;I nothing lack if I am hisAnd he is mine for ever.
Where streams of living water flowMy ransomed soul he leadeth,And where the verdant pastures growWith food celestial feedeth.
Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,But yet in love he sought me,And on his shoulder, gently laid,And home, rejoicing, brought me.
In death's dark vale I fear no illWith thee, dear Lord, beside me;The rod and staff my comfort still,Thy Cross before to guide me.
Thou spead'st a table in my sight;Thy unction grace bestoweth:And O what transport of delightFrom thy pure chalice floweth!
And so through all the length of daysThy goodness faileth never;Good Shepherd, may I sing thy praiseWithin thy house for ever.
Sir Henry Baker (1821 - 1877)
The Lord's my shepherd
THE Lord's my shepherd, I'll not want;He maketh me down to lieIn pastures green; he leadeth meThe quiet waters by.
My souls he doth restore again,And me to walk doth makeWithin the paths of righteousness,E'en for his own name's sake.
Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale,Yet will I fear no ill:For thou art with me, and thy rodAnd staff me comfort still.
My table thou hast furnishedIn presence of my foes;My head thou dost with oil anointAnd my cup overflows.
Goodness and mercy all my lifeShall surely follow me;And in God's house for evermoreMy dwelling-place shall be.
Scottish Psalter 1650 (23rd Psalm)Melody, Jessie Irvine, Scottish musician (1836 - 1887)Note: sung at the service of thanksgiving for the life of Diana, Princess of Wales in 2007.
The strife is o’er, the battle done
THE strife is o'er, the battle done;Now is the Victor's triumph won;O let the song of praise be sung.Alleluya!
Death's mightiest powers have done their worst,And Jesus hath his foes dispersed;Let shouts of praise and joy outburst.Alleluya!
On the third morn he rose againGlorious in majesty to reign;O let us swell the joyful strain.Alleluya!
He brake the age-bound chains of hell;The bars from heaven's high portals fell;Let hymns of praise his triumph tell.Alleluya!
Lord, by the stripes which wounded theeFrom death's dread sting thy servants free,That we may live, and sing to thee.Alleluya!
Words, author unknown possibly 12th CenturyTranslated from the Latin by Francis Pott (1832 - 1909)
There is a green hill far away
THERE is a green hill far away,Without a city wall,Where the dear Lord was crucifiedWho died to save us all.
We may not know, we cannot tell,What pains he had to bear,But we believe it was for usHe hung and suffered there.
He died that we might be forgiven,He died to make us good;That we might go at last to heaven,Saved by his precious Blood.
There was no other good enoughTo pay the price of sin;He only could unlock the gateOf heaven, and let us in.
O, dearly, dearly has he loved,And we must love him too,And trust in his redeeming Blood,And try his works to do.
There is a land of pure delight
THERE is a land of pure delight,Where saints immortal reign;Infinite day excludes the nightAnd pleasures banish pain.
There everlasting spring abides,And never-withering flowers;Death, like a narrow sea, dividesThat heavenly land from ours.
Sweet fields beyond the swelling floodStand dressed in living green;So to the Jews old Canaan stood,While Jordan rolled between.
But timorous mortals start and shrinkTo cross the narrow sea,And linger shivering on the brink,And fear to launch away.
O could we make our doubts remove,Those gloomy doubts that rise,And see the Canaan that we loveWith unbeclouded eyes.
Could we but climb where Moses stood,And view the landscape o'er;Not Jordan's stream nor death's cold flood,Should fright us from the shore.
Isaac Watts, prolific and popular hymn writer (1674 - 1748)
Thine be the glory, risen, conquering Son
THINE be the glory, risen, conquering Son,Endless is the victory Thou o'er death hast won;Angels in bright raiment rolled the stone away,Kept the folded grave-clothes, where Thy body lay.Thine be the glory, risen, conquering Son,Endless is the victory Thou o'er death hast won.
Lo! Jesus meets us, risen from the tomb;Lovingly He greets us, scatters fear and gloom;Let the Church with gladness hymns of triumph sing,For her Lord now liveth; death has lost its sting.Thine be the glory, risen, conquering Son,Endless is the victory Thou o'er death hast won.
No more we doubt Thee, glorious Prince of life;Life is nought without Thee: aid us in our strife;Make us more than conquerors, through Thy deathless love;Bring us safe through Jordan to Thy home above.Thine be the glory, risen, conquering Son,Endless is the victory Thou o'er death hast won.
Edmund Budry, Swiss hymn writer and pastor of the Free Church, Vevey (1854 - 1932)Translated into English by Richard Hoyle (1875 - 1939)
Through all the changing scenes of life
THROUGH all the changing scenes of life,In trouble and in joy,The praises of my God shall stillMy heart and tongue employ.
O magnify the Lord with me,With me exalt his name;When in distress to him I called,He to my rescue came.
The hosts of God encamped aroundThe dwellings of the just;Deliverance he affords to allWho on his succour trust.
O make but trial of his love,Experience will decideHow blest they are, and only they,Who in his truth confide.
Fear him, ye saints, and you will thenHave nothing else to fear;Make you his service your delight,Your wants shall be his care.
To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,The God whom we adore,Be glory, as it was, is now,And shall be evermore. Amen.
Nahum Tate, Irish Protestant poet, hymnist and lyricist (1652 - 1715)Nicholas Brady, poet and Church of England clergyman (1659 - 1726)
Who would true valour see
WHO would true valour seeLet him come hither:One here will constant be,Come wind, come weather;There's no discouragementShall make him once relentHis first avowed intentTo be a pilgrim.
Whoso beset him roundWith dismal stories,Do but themselves confound;His strength the more is.No lion can him fright;He'll with a giant fightBut he will have a rightTo be a pilgrim.
Hobgoblin nor foul fiendCan daunt his spirit;He knows he at the endShall life inherit.Then fancies fly away;He'll not fear what men say;He'll labour night and dayTo be a pilgrim.
John Bunyan, Christian writer and preacher (1628 - 1688)Note: Bunyan wrote these words during his twelve year prison sentence for refusing to conform to the official state church.
When I survey the wondrous Cross
WHEN I survey the wondrous Cross,On which the Prince of glory died,My richest gain I count but loss,And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boastSave in the death of Christ my God;All the vain things that charm me most,I sacrifice them to his Blood.
See from his head, his hands, his feet,Sorrow and love flow mingled down;Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
His dying crimson like a robe,Spreads o'er his body on the Tree;Then am I dead to all the globe,And all the globe is dead to me.
Were the whole realm of nature mine,That was a present far too small;Love so amazing, so divine,Demands my soul, my life, my all.
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