Archive for ‘Hymns’

Saturday, 10 September 2016

A Hymne to be Sung by All Englande: Women, Youthes, Clarkes, and Souldiers by John Still

From mercilesse Invaders, from wicked men’s device,
O God! Arise and helpe us to quele owre enemies.
Kyrye eleison. Christe eleison.

Sinke deepe their potent Navies, their strengthe and corage breake,
O God! Arise and save us, for Jesus Christ his sake.

Though cruel Spain and Parma, with heathene legions come,
O God! Arise and arm us, we’ll dye for owre home.

We will not change owre Credo, for Pope, nor boke, nor bell;
And yf the Devil come him self, we’ll hounde him back to hell.

From: http://www.lieder.net/lieder/get_text.html?TextId=95194

Date: 1588

By: John Still (1543-1607)

Wednesday, 29 June 2016

Temple Hymn 15: The Gishbanda Temple of Ningishzida by Enheduanna

ancient place
set deep in the mountain
artfully
dark shrine frightening and red place
safely placed in a field
no one can fathom your mighty hair-raising path
Gishbanda
the neck-stock the fine-eyed net
the foot-shackling netherworld knot
your restored high wall is massive
like a trap
your inside the place where the sun rises
yields widespread abundance
your prince the pure-handed
shita priest of Inanna heaven’s holy one
Lord Ningishzida
his thick and beautiful hair
falls down his back
O Gishbanda
has built this house on your radiant site
and placed his seat upon your dais.

From: http://classicalarthistory.weebly.com/1/post/2012/04/enheduanna-poems.html

Date: 3rd millennium BCE (original in Sumerian); 2010 (translation in English)

By: Enheduanna (2285-2250 BCE)

Translated by: Betty De Shong Meador (19??- )

Sunday, 29 May 2016

The Canticle of the Sun by Francis of Assissi (Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone)

Here begin the praises of the creatures which the Blessed Francis made to the praise and honor of god while he was ill at St. Damian’s:

Most high, omnipotent, good Lord,
Praise, glory and honor and benediction all, are Thine.
To Thee alone do they belong, most High,
And there is no man fit to mention Thee.

Praise be to Thee, my Lord, with all Thy creatures,
Especially to my worshipful brother sun,
The which lights up the day, and through him dost Thou brightness give;
And beautiful is he and radiant with splendor great;
Of Thee, most High, signification gives.

Praised be my Lord, for sister moon and for the stars,
In heaven Thou hast formed them clear and precious and fair.

Praised be my Lord for brother wind
And for the air and clouds and fair and every kind of weather,
By the which Thou givest to Thy creatures nourishment.

Praised be my Lord for sister water,
The which is greatly helpful and humble and precious and pure.

Praised be my Lord for brother fire,
By the which Thou lightest up the dark.
And fair is he and gay and mighty and strong.

Praised be my Lord for our sister, mother earth,
The which sustains and keeps us
And brings forth diverse fruits with grass and flowers bright.

Praised be my Lord for those who for Thy love forgive
And weakness bear and tribulation.
Blessed those who shall in peace endure,
For by Thee, most High, shall they be crowned.

Praised be my Lord for our sister, the bodily death,
From the which no living man can flee.
Woe to them who die in mortal sin;
Blessed those who shall find themselves in Thy most holy will,
For the second death shall do them no ill.

Praise ye and bless ye my Lord, and give Him thanks,
And be subject unto Him with great humility.

From: Robinson, Pashcal (translator), The Writings of St. Francis of Assissi, 2007, sacred-texts.com: Santa Cruz, California, pp. 152-153.
(http://www.sacred-texts.com/chr/wosf/wosf22.htm#page_152)

Date: 1225 (original); 1905 (translation)

By: Francis of Assissi (Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone) (1181/1182-1226)

Translated by: Paschal (David) Robinson (1870-1948)

Thursday, 3 September 2015

Cædmon’s Hymn by Cædmon

Now must we praise / heaven-kingdom’s Guardian,
the Measurer’s might / and his mind-plans,
the work of the Glory-Father, / when he of wonders of every one,
eternal Lord, / the beginning established.
He first created / for men’s sons
heaven as a roof, / holy Creator;
then middle-earth / mankind’s Guardian,
eternal Lord / afterwards made —
for men earth, / Master almighty.

From: http://public.wsu.edu/~delahoyd/medieval/caedmon.html

Date: 7th century (original in Old English); 2015 (translation in English)

By: Cædmon (fl. 657-680)

Translated by: Michael Delahoyd (19??- )

Friday, 17 April 2015

If I Could Shut the Gate Against My Thoughts by John Daniel

If I could shut the gate against my thoughts
And keep out sorrow from this room within,
Or memory could cancel all the notes
Of my misdeeds, and I unthink my sin:
How free, how clear, how clean my soul should lie,
Discharged of such a loathsome company!

Or were there other rooms without my heart
That did not to my conscience join so near,
Where I might lodge the thoughts of sin apart
That I might not their clam’rous crying hear;
What peace, what joy, what ease should I possess,
Freed from their horrors that my soul oppress!

But, O my Saviour, who my refuge art,
Let Thy dear mercies stand ’twixt them and me,
And be the wall to separate my heart
So that I may at length repose me free;
That peace, and joy, and rest may be within,
And I remain divided from my sin.

From: http://www.bartleby.com/331/615.html

Date: 1606

By: John Daniel (?1564-c1626)

Sunday, 7 December 2014

Give Heed, My Heart, Lift Up Thine Eyes by Martin Luther

Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes;
Who is it in yon manger lies?
Who is this Child so young and fair?
The blessèd Christ-child lieth there.

Ah, dearest Jesus, holy Child,
Make Thee a bed, soft, undefiled,
Within my heart, that it may be
A quiet chamber, kept for Thee.

My heart for very joy doth leap,
My lips no more can silence keep;
I too must sing with joyful tongue,
That sweetest ancient cradle-song:

Glory to God in highest heaven,
Who unto men His Son that given;
While angels sing with pious mirth,
A glad new year to all the earth. Amen.

From: http://www.historichymns.com/HymnPage.aspx?HymnalNumber=32&Hymn_Number=475&TextID=2058

Date: 1524 (original in German); 1858 (translation in English)

By: Martin Luther (1483-1546)

Translated by: Catherine Winkworth (1827-1878)

Wednesday, 24 September 2014

Wrestling Jacob by Charles Wesley

Come, O Thou Traveller unknown,
Whom still I hold, but cannot see,
My company before is gone,
And I am left alone with Thee,
With Thee all night I mean to stay,
And wrestle till the break of day.

I need not tell Thee who I am,
My misery, or sin declare,
Thyself hast call’d me by my name,
Look on thy hands, and read it there,
But who, I ask Thee, who art Thou?
Tell me thy name, and tell me now.

In vain Thou strugglest to get free,
I never will unloose my hold:
Art Thou the Man that died for me?
The secret of thy love unfold;
Wrestling I will not let Thee go,
Till I thy name, thy nature know.

’Tis all in vain to hold thy tongue,
Or touch the hollow of my thigh:
Though every sinew be unstrung,
Out of my arms Thou shalt not fly;
Wrestling I will not let Thee go,
Till I thy name, thy nature know.

My strength is gone, my nature dies,
I sink beneath thy weighty hand,
Faint to revive, and fall to rise;
I fall, and yet by faith I stand,
I stand, and will not let Thee go,
Till I thy name, thy nature know.

Yield to me now—for I am weak;
But confident in self-despair:
Speak to my heart, in blessings speak,
Be conquer’d by my instant prayer,
Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move,
And tell me, if thy name is Love.

’Tis Love, ’tis Love! Thou diedst for me,
I hear thy whisper in my heart.
The morning breaks, the shadows flee:
Pure Universal Love Thou art,
To me, to all, thy bowels move,
Thy nature, and thy name is Love.

Contented now upon my thigh
I halt, till life’s short journey end;
All helplessness, all weakness I,
On Thee alone for strength depend,
Nor have I power, from Thee, to move;
Thy nature, and thy name is Love.

Lame as I am, I take the prey,
Hell, earth, and sin with ease o’ercome;
I leap for joy, pursue my way,
And as a bounding hart fly home,
Thro’ all eternity to prove
Thy nature, and thy name is Love.

From: http://users.compaqnet.be/cn127848/obev/obev126.html

Date: 1742

By: Charles Wesley (1707-1788)

Friday, 13 December 2013

Light After Darkness by Frances Ridley Havergal

Light after darkness, gain after loss,
Strength after weakness, crown after cross;
Sweet after bitter, hope after fears,
Home after wandering, praise after tears.

Sheaves after sowing, sun after rain,
Sight after mystery, peace after pain;
Joy after sorrow, calm after blast,
Rest after weariness, sweet rest at last

Near after distant, gleam after gloom,
Love after loneliness, life after tomb;
After long agony, rapture of bliss,
Right was the pathway, leading to this.

From: http://cyberhymnal.org/htm/l/i/lightaft.htm

Date: 1879

By: Frances Ridley Havergal (1836-1879)

Monday, 21 January 2013

Morning Has Broken by Eleanor Farjeon

Morning has broken, like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird.
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,
Praise for them springing fresh from the word.

Sweet the rain’s new fall, sunlit from heaven,
Like the first dew fall on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness where His feet pass.

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning,
Born of the one light Eden saw play.
Praise with elation, praise every morning,
God’s re-creation of the new day.

Cool the gray clouds roll, peaking the mountains,
Gull in her free flight, swooping the skies.
Praise for the mystery, misting the morning,
Behind the shadow, waiting to shine.

I am the sunrise, warming the heavens,
Spilling my warm glow over the earth.
Praise for the brightness of this new morning,
Filling my spirit with Your great love.

Mine is a turning, mine is a new life,
Mine is a journey closer to You.
Praise for the sweet glimpse, caught in a moment,
Joy breathing deeply, dancing in flight.

From: http://www.hymnlyrics.org/hymns_camp/morning_has_broken.php

Date: 1931

By: Eleanor Farjeon (1881-1965)

Sunday, 21 October 2012

Rock of Ages by Augustus Montague Toplady

Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy wounded side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure;
Save from wrath and make me pure.

Not the labour of my hands
Can fulfil Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever 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 to Thee for 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 shall close in death,
When I soar to worlds unknown,
See Thee on Thy judgment throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.

From: http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/r/o/rockages.htm

Date: 1776

By: Augustus Montague Toplady (1740-1778)