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Not for Our Sins Alone
Author: Henry Twells Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #4594 Meter: 6.6.6.6.6.6 Lyrics: 1. Not for our sins alone
Thy mercy, Lord, we sue;
Let fall Thy pitying glance
On our devotions, too,
What we have done for Thee,
And what we think to do.
2. The holiest hours we spend
In prayer upon our knees,
The times when most we deem
The songs of praise will please,
Thou searcher of all hearts,
Forgiveness pour on these.
3. And all the gifts we bring,
And all the vows we make,
And all the acts of love
We plan for Thy dear sake,
Into Thy pardoning thought,
O God of mercy, take.
4. And most, when we, Thy flock,
Before Thine altar bend,
And strange, bewildering thoughts
With those sweet moments blend,
By Him whose death we plead,
Good Lord, Thy help extend.
5. Bow down Thine ear and hear!
Open Thine eyes and see!
Our very love is shame,
And we must come to Thee
To make it of Thy grace
What Thou wouldst have it be. Languages: English Tune Title: WALTHAM (Monk)
Not for Our Sins Alone
O Thou Not Made with Hands
Author: Francis T. Palgrave Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #5397 Meter: 6.6.6.6.6.6 Lyrics: 1. O thou not made with hands,
Not throned above the skies,
Nor walled with shining walls,
Nor framed with stones of price,
More bright than gold or gem,
God’s own Jerusalem.
2. Where’er the gentle heart
Finds courage from above;
Where’er the heart forsook
Warms with the breath of love;
Where faith bids fear depart,
City of God, thou art.
3. Thou art where’er the proud
In humbleness melts down;
Where self itself yields up;
Where martyrs win their crown;
Where faithful souls possess
Themselves in perfect peace.
4. Where in life’s common ways
With cheerful feet we go;
Where in His steps we tread,
Who trod the way of woe;
Where He is in the heart,
City of God, thou art.
5. Not throned above the skies,
Nor golden-walled afar,
But where Christ’s two or three
In His name gathered are,
Be in the midst of them,
God’s own Jerusalem. Languages: English Tune Title: OLD 120TH
O Thou Not Made with Hands
O thou not made with hands
Hymnal: Small Church Music #7018 Meter: 6.6.6.6.6.6 Tune Title: GOLDEN TREASURY
O thou not made with hands
Jesus, the First and Last
Hymnal: Small Church Music #7025 Meter: 6.6.6.6.6.6 Tune Title: WATFORD
Jesus, the First and Last
O Resurrection Morn
Author: Hannah M. Kohaus Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #11178 Meter: 6.6.6.6.6.6 Lyrics: 1 O resurrection morn,
The weary world is shorn
Today of all its gloom!
For truth has rolled away
The stone from fear’s array,
And empty is the tomb.
2 Now is death’s problem solved,
The day of days evolved
Out of its fleshly guise;
The Son of Righteousness
Hath rent His earthly dress,
That Christ must thus arise.
3 No longer can the walls
That dreamily enthrall
Man’s glory, hide from sight;
For One with God-like mien
(Back of the prism seen)
Hath pierced them thro’ with light.
4 Yet through the shadowy deep,
Up Calvary’s rocky steep
His soul hath surely trod;
For dead and buried He
From sense of self must be
Who knows His Father—God.
5 O day of days complete,
Odorous with victories sweeet,
And crowned with tender grace!
The diadem of thorns
Majestically adorns
The well-run, patient race.
6 O Christ, the perfect Whole,
Thou resurrected soul,
The glorious conquest done!
Thou Truth, and Life, and Way
To immortality
With God, th’eternal One! Languages: English Tune Title: SCOTTSDALE
O Resurrection Morn
Jesus, the first and last
Author: Charles Wesley Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #11727 Meter: 6.6.6.6.6.6 Lyrics: 1 Jesus, the first and last,
On Thee my soul is cast:
Thou didst Thy work begin
By blotting out my sin;
Thou wilt the root remove,
Perfecting me in love.
2 Yet when the work is done,
The work is but begun:
Partaker of Thy grace,
I long to see Thy face;
The first I prove below,
The last I die to know. Languages: English Tune Title: ST. OLAVE
Jesus, the first and last
A Marching Song
Author: Algernon C. Swinburne Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #14412 Meter: 6.6.6.6.6.6 First Line: We mix from many lands Lyrics: 1 We mix from many lands,
We march for very far;
In hearts and lips and hands
Our staffs and weapons are;
The light we walk in darkens
The sun and moon and star.
2 It doth not flame and wane
With years and spheres that roll,
Storm cannot shake nor stain
The strength that makes it whole,
The fire that molds and moves it
Is of the sovereign Soul.
3 From edge of harsh derision,
From discord and defeat,
From doubt and lame division,
We pluck the fruit and eat;
The mouth does find it bitter,
The spirit finds it sweet.
4 O nations undivided,
O single people and free,
Derided dreamers we,
We mad blind men that see,
We bear you witness ere
Ye come that ye shall be.
5 Ye sitting midst the tombs,
Ye standing round the gate,
Whom fire-mouthed war consumes,
Or cold-lipped peace bids wait,
All tombs and bars shall open,
Each sepulcher, grave, and grate.
6 O sorrowing hearts of slaves,
We heard you beat from far!
We bring the Light that saves,
We bring the Morning Star;
The gifts of freedom we bring,
From whence all blessings are.
7 Rise, ere the dawn be risen;
Come, all ye souls, be fed;
From prison, field and street,
Come, for the feast is spread;
Live, for the Truth is living;
Wake, for the night is dead. Languages: English Tune Title: ST. GERMANS
A Marching Song
എന് ജീവന് ഞാന് തന്നു, എന് രക്തം ചൊരിഞ്ഞു
Author: Frances R. Havergal; Rev. Thomas Koshy, 1857-1940 Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #14510 Meter: 6.6.6.6.6.6 Lyrics: 1 എന് ജീവന് ഞാന് തന്നു, എന് രക്തം ചൊരിഞ്ഞു
നിന്നെ വീണ്ടെടുപ്പാൻ, നീ എന്നും ജീവിപ്പാൻ
എൻ ജീവൻ ഞാൻ തന്നു-എന്തു തന്നെനിക്കു?
2 ദീർഘകാലം പോക്കി, ദുഃഖം കഷ്ടങ്ങളിൽ
ആനന്ദമോക്ഷത്തിന്നർഹനായ് തീരാൻ നീ
എത്ര ശ്രമിച്ചു ഞാൻ-എന്തു ചെയ്തെനിക്കായ്?
3 വിട്ടെൻ പിതൃഗ്രഹം, തേജ്ജസ്സൊത്താസനം
ധാത്രിയിൽ അലഞ്ഞു ദുഃഖിച്ചും തനിച്ചും
എല്ലാം നിൻ പേർക്കല്ലോ-എന്തു ചെയ്തെനിക്കായ്?
4 പാടെന്തു ഞാൻ പെട്ടു, പാതകർ കയ്യാലെ
നാവാൽ അവർണ്ണ്യമാം നാശം ഒഴിഞ്ഞിതേ
പാടേറെ ഞാൻ പെട്ടു-പാപി എന്തേറ്റു നീ?
5 സ്വർഗ്ഗത്തിൽ നിന്നു ഞാൻ സൗജന്യ രക്ഷയും
സ്നേഹം മോചനവും സർവ്വ വരങ്ങളും
കൊണ്ടുവന്നില്ലയോ-കൊണ്ടുവന്നെന്തു നീ?
6 നിന്നായുസ്സെനിക്കായ് നീ പ്രതിഷ്ഠിക്കിന്നേ
ലോകവും വെറുക്ക മോദിക്ക താപത്തിൽ
സർവ്വവും വെറുത്തു-രക്ഷകൻ കൂടെ വാ. Languages: Malayalam Tune Title: BACA
എന് ജീവന് ഞാന് തന്നു, എന് രക്തം ചൊരിഞ്ഞു
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