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Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

Hymnal: HSAC1993 #115 (1993) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Tune Title: GREENVILLE

Old Hundred

Hymnal: HSAC1993 #53 (1993) Meter: 8.8.8.8 First Line: To God, the Great, the ever bless'd Lyrics: 1. To God, the Great, the ever bless'd, Let songs of honour be address'd; His mercy firm for ever stands— Give him the praise his love commands. 2. Who knows the wonders of thy ways! Who shall fulfill thy boundless praise! Bless'd are the souls that fear thee still, And pay their duty to thy will. 3. Remember what thy mercy did For Jacob's race, thy chosen seed; And with the same salvation bless The meanest suppliant of thy grace. 4. Oh may I see thy tribes rejoice, And aid their triumphs with my voice! This is my glory, Lord, to be Join'd to thy saints, and near to thee. Tune Title: OLD HUNDRED

Newry

Hymnal: HSAC1993 #54A (1993) Meter: 8.8.8.8 First Line: Now let our souls on wings sublime Lyrics: 1. Now let our souls, on wings sublime, Rise from the vanities of time: Draw back the parting vail and see The glories of eternity. 2. Born by a new celestial birth, Why should we grovel here on earth? Why grasp at transitory toys, So near to heav'n's eternal joys? 3. Shall aught beguile us on the road, When we are walking back to God? For strangers into life we come, And dying is but going home. 4. Welcome sweet hour of full discharge, That sets our longing souls at large: Unbinds our chains, breaks up our cell, And gives us with our God to dwell. 5. To dwell with God, to feel his love, Is the full heav'n enjoyed above; And the sweet expectation now, Is the young dawn of heav'n below. Tune Title: NEWRY

Windham

Hymnal: HSAC1993 #54B (1993) Meter: 8.8.8.8 First Line: Broad is the road that leads to death Lyrics: 1. Broad is the road that leads to death, And thousands walk together there; But wisdom shows a narrow path, With here and there a traveler. 2. Deny thyself and take thy cross, Is the Redeemer's great command: Nature must count her gold but dross, If she would gain that heav'nly land. 3. The fearful soul that tires and faints, And walks the ways of God no more, Is but esteemed almost a saint, And makes his own destruction sure. 4. Lord, let not all my hopes be vain, Create my heart entirely new, Which hypocrites could ne'er attain, Which false apostates never knew. Tune Title: WINDHAM