On Sunday we sang two hymns by the 18th Century Baptist Samuel Stennett. We'd not sung either of them before. See more here . The versions in the new Christian Hymns are slightly different to these.
Come, every pious heart,
That loves the Saviour’s Name,
Your noblest powers exert
To celebrate His fame;
Tell all above, and all below;
That debt of love to Him you owe.
He left His starry crown,
And laid His robes aside;
On wings of love came down,
And wept, and bled, and died:
What He endured, O who can tell,
To save our souls from death and hell!
From the dark grave He rose;
The mansions of the dead,
And thence His mighty foes
In glorious triumph led;
Up through the sky the Conqueror rode;
And reigns on High, the Savior God.
From thence He’ll quickly come,
His chariot will not stay,
And bear our spirits home
To realms of endless day;
There shall we see His lovely face
And ever be in His embrace.
Jesus, we ne’er can pay
The debt we owe Thy love;
Yet tell us how we may
Our gratitude approve;
Our hearts, our all to Thee we give;
The gift, though small, Thou wilt receive.
Majestic sweetness sits enthroned
Upon the Saviour’s brow;
His head with radiant glories crowned,
His lips with grace o’erflow.
To Christ, the Lord, let every tongue
Its noblest tribute bring
When He’s the subject of the song,
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.
No mortal can with Him compare
Among the sons of men;
Fairer is He than all the fair
Who 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.
His hand a thousand blessings pours
Upon my guilty head:
His presence gilds my darkest hours,
And guards my sleeping bed.
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.
To Heav’n, the place of His abode,
He brings my weary feet;
Shows me the glories of my God,
And makes my joys complete.
Since from His bounty I receive
Such proofs of love divine,
Had I a thousand hearts to give,
Lord, they should all be Thine.
Come, every pious heart,
That loves the Saviour’s Name,
Your noblest powers exert
To celebrate His fame;
Tell all above, and all below;
That debt of love to Him you owe.
He left His starry crown,
And laid His robes aside;
On wings of love came down,
And wept, and bled, and died:
What He endured, O who can tell,
To save our souls from death and hell!
From the dark grave He rose;
The mansions of the dead,
And thence His mighty foes
In glorious triumph led;
Up through the sky the Conqueror rode;
And reigns on High, the Savior God.
From thence He’ll quickly come,
His chariot will not stay,
And bear our spirits home
To realms of endless day;
There shall we see His lovely face
And ever be in His embrace.
Jesus, we ne’er can pay
The debt we owe Thy love;
Yet tell us how we may
Our gratitude approve;
Our hearts, our all to Thee we give;
The gift, though small, Thou wilt receive.
Majestic sweetness sits enthroned
Upon the Saviour’s brow;
His head with radiant glories crowned,
His lips with grace o’erflow.
To Christ, the Lord, let every tongue
Its noblest tribute bring
When He’s the subject of the song,
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.
No mortal can with Him compare
Among the sons of men;
Fairer is He than all the fair
Who 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.
His hand a thousand blessings pours
Upon my guilty head:
His presence gilds my darkest hours,
And guards my sleeping bed.
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.
To Heav’n, the place of His abode,
He brings my weary feet;
Shows me the glories of my God,
And makes my joys complete.
Since from His bounty I receive
Such proofs of love divine,
Had I a thousand hearts to give,
Lord, they should all be Thine.
1 comment:
I like the first one a great deal - I prefer it as a four verse hymn with the last verse omitted.
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