Your Harps, Ye Trembling Saints
Your harps, ye trembling saints,
Down from the willows take;
Loud to the praise of love divine
Bid every string awake.
Though in a foreign land
We are not far from home,
And nearer to our house above
We every moment come.
His grace will to the end
Stronger and brighter shine;
Nor present things nor things to come
Shall quench the spark divine.
When we in darkness walk,
Nor feel the heavenly flame,
Then is the time to trust our God,
And rest upon His Name.
Soon shall our doubts and fears
Subside at His control;
His lovingkindness shall break through
The midnight of the soul.
Blest is the man, O Lord!
That stays himself on Thee;
Who wait for Thy salvation, Lord!
Shall thy salvation see.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Related quotes
Psalm 34 part 1
God's care of the saints; or, Deliverance by prayer.
Lord, I will bless thee all my days,
Thy praise shall dwell upon my tongue
My soul shall glory in thy grace,
While saints rejoice to hear the song.
Come, magnify the Lord with me,
Come, let us all exalt his name;
I sought th' eternal God, and he
Has not exposed my hope to shame.
I told him all my secret grief,
My secret groaning reached his ears;
He gave my inward pains relief;
And calmed the tumult of my fears.
To him the poor lift up their eyes,
Their faces feel the heav'nly shine;
A beam of mercy from the skies
Fills them with light and joy divine.
His holy angels pitch their tents
Around the men that serve the Lord;
O fear and love him, all his saints,
Taste of his grace, and trust his word.
The wild young lions, pinched with pain
And hunger, roar through all the wood;
But none shall seek the Lord in vain,
Nor want supplies of real good.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 106 part 1
v.1-5
L. M.
Praise to God; or, Communion with saints.
To God, the great, the ever-blest,
Let songs of honor be addressed;
His mercy firm for ever stands
Give him the thanks his love demands.
Who knows the wonders of thy ways?
Who shall fulfil thy boundless praise?
Blest are the souls that fear thee still,
And pay their duty to thy will.
Remember what thy mercy did
For Jacob's race, thy chosen seed;
And with the same salvation bless
The meanest suppliant of thy grace.
O may I see thy tribes rejoice,
And aid their triumphs with my voice!
This is my glory, Lord, to be
Joined to thy saints, and near to thee.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 118
v.22-27
S. M.
An hosanna for the Lord's day; or, A new song of salvation by Christ.
See what a living stone
The builders did refuse;
Yet God hath built his church thereon,
In spite of envious Jews.
The scribe and angry priest
Reject thine only Son;
Yet on this Rock shall Zion rest,
As the chief corner-stone.
The work, O Lord, is thine,
And wondrous in our eyes;
This day declares it all divine,
This day did Jesus rise.
This is the glorious day
That our Redeemer made;
Let us rejoice, and sing, and pray,
Let all the church be glad.
Hosanna to the King
Of David's royal blood;
Bless him, ye saints, he comes to bring
Salvation from your God.
We bless thine holy word,
Which all this grace displays;
And offer on thine altar, Lord,
Our sacrifice of praise.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 118 part 4
v.24-26
C. M.
Hosanna; the Lord's day; or, Christ's resurrection and our salvation.
This is the day the Lord hath made,
He calls the hours his own;
Let heav'n rejoice, let earth be glad,
And praise surround the throne.
Today he rose and left the dead,
And Satan's empire fell;
Today the saints his triumphs spread,
And all his wonders tell.
Hosanna to th' anointed King,
To David's holy Son;
Help us, O Lord; descend and bring
Salvation from thy throne.
Blest be the Lord, who comes to men
With messages of grace;
Who comes in God his Father's name
To save our sinful race.
Hosanna in the highest strains
The church on earth can raise;
The highest heav'ns, in which he reigns,
Shall give him nobler praise.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 135 part 1
v.1-4,14,19-21
L. M.
The church is God's house and care.
Praise ye the Lord, exalt his name,
While in his holy courts ye wait,
Ye saints, that to his house belong,
Or stand attending at his gate.
Praise ye the Lord, the Lord is good;
To praise his name is sweet employ:
Isr'el he chose of old, and still
His church is his peculiar joy.
The Lord himself will judge his saints;
He treats his servants as his friends;
And when he hears their sore complaints,
Repents the sorrows that he sends.
Through every age the Lord declares
His name, and breaks th' oppressor's rod
He gives his suff'ring servants rest,
And will be known th' Almighty God.
Bless ye the Lord, who taste his love,
People and priest, exalt his name:
Amongst his saints he ever dwells;
His church is his Jerusalem.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Days To Come
This day is the Day of Grace, a time all men can seek the face,
The face of the Lord above, to embrace God’s Awesome Love,
Love He displayed in His Son, who came to earth for everyone,
Every man, woman and nation, to bring to them, His Salvation,
Salvation offered to all today, in Christ, The Truth and The Way.
The Day of Christ is next for us, who in Christ, place their trust,
When He comes for all of those, who believe in Him, who rose,
To meet us up in the clouds, with many other Heavenly crowds,
When He raptures all His own, to take us to our Heavenly home,
Where we’ll be forevermore, with the Father and Christ our Lord.
And then the Day of The Lord; when The Lord’s wrath is poured,
Down on all unrighteousness, destroyed by His Righteousness,
Falling under His righteous wrath; those who chose an evil path,
They’ll see God’s stern reproof, for dismissing God’s only Truth,
As the coming of Christ alone, displays the power of His Throne.
And finally, the Day of God, will change forever this earthly sod,
As a new Heaven and new earth, is established, of eternal worth,
Purged forever shall be all sin, as Eternity, by God is ushered in,
Making all as He intended it to be, not for a time, but for eternity,
And for you to enjoy this place, believe now in the Day of Grace.
(Copyright ©01/2008)
Psalm 18 part 1
v.1-6,15-18
L. M.
Deliverance from despair.
Thee will I love, O Lord, my strength,
My rock, my tower, my high defence:
Thy mighty arm shall be my trust,
For I have found salvation thence.
Death, and the terrors of the grave,
Stood round me with their dismal shade;
While floods of high temptations rose,
And made my sinking soul afraid.
I saw the op'ning gates of hell,
With endless pains and sorrows there,
Which none but they that feel can tell;
While I was hurried to despair.
In my distress I called my God,
When I could scarce believe him mine:
He bowed his ear to my complaint,
Then did his grace appear divine.
With speed he flew to my relief,
As on a cherub's wing he rode;
Awful and bright as lightning shone
The face of my deliverer, God.
Temptations fled at his rebuke,
The blast of his almighty breath;
He sent salvation from on high,
And drew me from the deeps of death.
Great were my fears, my foes were great,
Much was their strength, and more their rage;
But Christ, my Lord, is conqueror still,
In all the wars that devils wage.
My song for ever shall record
That terrible, that joyful hour;
And give the glory to the Lord,
Due to his mercy and his power
poem by Isaac Watts
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Prayer Answered by Crosses
I ask'd the Lord, that I might grow
In faith, and love, and ev'ry grace,
Might more of his salvation know,
And seek more earnestly his face.
'Twas he who taught me thus to pray,
And he, I trust has answer'd pray'r;
But it has been in such a way,
As almost drove me to despair.
I hop'd that in some favour'd hour,
At once he'd answer my request:
And by his love's constraining pow'r,
Subdue my sins, and give me rest.
Instead of this. he made me feel
The hidden evils of my heart;
And let the angry pow'rs of hell
Assault my soul in ev'ry part.
Yea more, with his own hand he seem'd
Intent to aggravate my woe;
Cross'd all the fair designs I schem'd,
Blasted my gourds, and laid me low.
Lord, why is this, I trembling cry'd,
Wilt thou pursue thy worm to death?
"'Tis in this way," the Lord reply'd,
"I answer pray'r for grace and faith.
"These inward trials I employ,
"From self and pride to set thee free;
"And break thy schemes of earthly joy,
"That thou mayst seek thy all in me."
poem by John Newton
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At the Close of the Year
Let hearts and tongues unite,
And loud thanksgivings raise:
'Tis duty, mingled with delight,
To sing the Saviour's praise.
To him we owe our breath,
He took us from the womb,
Which else had shut us up in death,
And prov'd an early tomb.
When on the breast we hung,
Our help was in the Lord;
'Twas he first taught our infant tongue
To form the lisping word.
When in our blood we lay,
He would not let us die,
Because his love had fix'd a day
To bring salvation nigh.
In childhood and in youth,
His eye was on us still:
Though strangers to his love and truth,
And prone to cross his will.
And since his name we knew,
How gracious has he been:
What dangers has he led us through,
What mercies have we seen!
Now through another year,
Supported by his care,
We raise our Ebenezer here,
"The Lord has help'd thus far."
Our lot in future years
Unable to foresee,
He kindly, to prevent our fears,
Says, "Leave it all to me."
Yea, Lord, we wish to cast
Our cares upon thy breast!
Help us to praise thee for the past,
And trust thee for the rest.
poem by John Newton
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Hymn 26
Hope of heaven by the resurrection of Christ.
1 Pet. 1:3-5.
Blest be the everlasting God,
The Father of our Lord;
Be his abounding mercy praised,
His majesty adored.
When from the dead he raised his Son,
And called him to the sky,
He gave our souls a lively hope
That they should never die.
What though our inbred sins require
Our flesh to see the dust,
Yet as the Lord our Savior rose,
So all his followers must.
There's an inheritance divine
Reserved against that day;
'Tis uncorrupted, undefiled,
And cannot waste away.
Saints by the power of God are kept
Till the salvation come;
We walk by faith as strangers here,
Till Christ shall call us home.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn XXVII: Saviour, the World's and Mine
Saviour, the world's and mine,
Was ever grief like thine!
Thou my pain, my curse hast took,
All my sins were laid on thee;
Help me, Lord; to thee I look,
Draw me, Saviour, after thee.
'Tis done! my God hath died;
My Love is crucified!
Break, this stony heart of mine;
Pour, mine eyes, a ceaseless flood;
Feel, my soul, the pangs divine;
Catch, my heart, the issuing blood!
When, O my God, shall I
For thee submit to die?
How the mighty debt repay?
Rival of thy passion prove?
Lead me in thyself, the Way;
Melt my hardness into love.
To love is all my wish,
I only live for this;
Grant me, Lord, my heart's desire,
There by faith for ever dwell;
This I always will require,
Thee, and only thee, to feel.
Thy power I pant to prove,
Rooted and fixed in love;
Strengthened by thy Spirit's might,
Wise to fathom things divine,
What the length, and breadth, and height,
What the depth of love like thine.
Ah! give me this to know,
With all thy saints below;
Swells my soul to compass thee,
Gasps in thee to live and move;
Filled with all the Deity,
All immersed and lost in love!
poem by John Wesley
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Hymn XXVII: Saviour, the World's and Mine
Saviour, the world's and mine,
Was ever grief like thine!
Thou my pain, my curse hast took,
All my sins were laid on thee;
Help me, Lord; to thee I look,
Draw me, Saviour, after thee.
'Tis done! my God hath died;
My Love is crucified!
Break, this stony heart of mine;
Pour, mine eyes, a ceaseless flood;
Feel, my soul, the pangs divine;
Catch, my heart, the issuing blood!
When, O my God, shall I
For thee submit to die?
How the mighty debt repay?
Rival of thy passion prove?
Lead me in thyself, the Way;
Melt my hardness into love.
To love is all my wish,
I only live for this;
Grant me, Lord, my heart's desire,
There by faith for ever dwell;
This I always will require,
Thee, and only thee, to feel.
Thy power I pant to prove,
Rooted and fixed in love;
Strengthened by thy Spirit's might,
Wise to fathom things divine,
What the length, and breadth, and height,
What the depth of love like thine.
Ah! give me this to know,
With all thy saints below;
Swells my soul to compass thee,
Gasps in thee to live and move;
Filled with all the Deity,
All immersed and lost in love!
poem by Charles Wesley
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As I Wait
Lord help my soul to gently wait, as your soon return I anticipate,
Your soon return, for your Bride, all the souls for whom you died.
That day will be a special one, when we will see God’s Only Son.
The One who died in our place, the Church shall see face to face.
On the day we hear that sound, all God’s Saints will gather round,
Gathered around The Lord above, raptured there by Christ’s Love.
When we hear that trumpet blast, we will be with The Lord at last.
We will be one big Heavenly crowd, all together up in the clouds.
Until that day that He will fulfill, I must be about The Father’s will,
For I must remain occupied, to share the reason why Christ died.
This is why Christ has sent us to be about His Father’s business,
Reaching out to every nation, and teaching them about Salvation.
While for Him I wait, I must be, faithfully pointing men to Eternity.
I must be frank with everyone, all about God’s One and Only Son.
No matter what men may say, Jesus Christ, is God’s Only Way.
Christ is the way, truth, and life, out of this dark world of strife.
So as I wait for Christ’s Return, I must help other men to learn,
Learn about the coming end, and lead them to Salvation friend.
That is why Christ has left us here, so other men could also hear,
All about His matchless Grace, so they too, can see Christ’s face.
If, on a Quiet Sea
If, on a quiet sea, toward heaven we calmly sail,
With grateful hearts, O God, to Thee,
We’ll own the favoring gale,
With grateful hearts, O God, to Thee,
We’ll own the favoring gale.
But should the surges rise, and rest delay to come,
Blest be the tempest, kind the storm,
Which drives us nearer home,
Blest be the tempest, kind the storm,
Which drives us nearer home.
Soon shall our doubts and fears all yield to Thy control;
Thy tender mercies shall illume
The midnight of the soul,
Thy tender mercies shall illume
The midnight of the soul.
Teach us, in every state, to make Thy will our own;
And when the joys of sense depart,
To live by faith alone,
And when the joys of sense depart,
To live by faith alone.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Salvation Drawing Nearer
Darkness overspreads us here,
But the night wears fast away;
Jacob's star will soon appear,
Leading on eternal day!
Now 'tis time to rouse from sleep,
Trim our lamps and stand prepared;
For our Lord strict watch to keep,
Lest he find us off our guard.
Let his people courage take,
Bear with a submissive mind
All they suffer for his sake,
Rich amends they soon will find:
He will wipe away their tears,
Near himself appoint their lot;
All their sorrows, pains and fears,
Quickly then wilt be forgot.
Though already saved, by grace,
From the hour we first believed;
Yet while sin and war have place,
We have but a part received:
Still we for salvation wait,
Every hour it nearer comes!
Death will break the prison gate,
And admit us to our homes.
Sinners, what can you expect?
You who now the Saviour dare;
Break his laws, his grace reject,
You must stand before his bar!
Tremble, lest he say, Depart!
Oh the horrors of that sound!
Lord, make every careless heart,
Seek thee while thou may'st be found.
poem by John Newton
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My 'Habakkuk' experience
Things were bleak and the outlook was bad.
My soul despaired and my heart was sad.
No job and no income. How shall I provide?
I needed to know that God was on my side.
'What shall I read? ', I said to the Lord
thumbing the pages of His Living Word.
'Read Habakkuk', He said to me so clearly
so I read my bible as He commanded me.
I felt much worse as the first chapter I read
'This is not helping me', to the Lord I said.
'Read on dear Roy', the Lord said to me
and so I read on in faith, obediently.
And then I found it. There in chapter three.
Written so clearly as though just for me.
It lifted my soul to the heavens above
and assured me of God's presence and love.
'Though nothing on earth seems to bloom
and all appears to be doom and gloom,
no sheep in the pen, no cattle in the stall
and no grapes growing on the vine at all.'
'Though the olive crop does not yield
and no produce comes from the field,
even though the fig tree does not bud,
yet still my soul will rejoice in the Lord.'
'I will joy in the God of my salvation,
give Him all my praise and adoration.'
Here on earth 'The just shall live by faith'
for trusting in the Lord they will be safe.'
The things of this world are so unreliable.
They come and go, they rise and they fall.
But heavenly treasures neither fade nor fail
outlasting all things they will prevail.
Secure in the knowledge that God's in control
and that He's the keeper of my immortal soul.
I said to my soul 'Be not cast down or sad'
'But rejoice in the Lord always and be glad'
Jehovah Jesus
My song shall bless the Lord of all,
My praise shall climb to His abode;
Thee, Saviour, by that name I call,
The great Supreme, the mighty God.
Without beginning or decline,
Object of faith and not of sense;
Eternal ages saw Him shine,
He shines eternal ages hence.
As much when in the manger laid,
Almighty Ruler of the sky,
As when the six days' work He made,
Fill'd all the morning stars with joy.
Of all the crowns Jehovah bears,
Salvation is His dearest claim;
That gracious sound well pleased He hears
And owns Emmanuel for His name.
A cheerful confidence I feel,
My well placed hopes with joy I see;
My bosom glows with heavenly zeal,
To worship Him who died for me.
As man He pities my complaint,
His power and truth are all divine;
He will not fail, He cannot faint;
Salvation's sure, and must be mine.
poem by William Cowper
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Olney Hymn 25: Jehovah Jesus
My song shall bless the Lord of all,
My praise shall climb to His abode;
Thee, Saviour, by that name I call,
The great Supreme, the mighty God.
Without beginning or decline,
Object of faith and not of sense;
Eternal ages saw Him shine,
He shines eternal ages hence.
As much when in the manger laid,
Almighty Ruler of the sky,
As when the six days' work He made,
Fill'd all the morning stars with joy.
Of all the crowns Jehovah bears,
Salvation is His dearest claim;
That gracious sound well pleased He hears
And owns Emmanuel for His name.
A cheerful confidence I feel,
My well placed hopes with joy I see;
My bosom glows with heavenly zeal,
To worship Him who died for me.
As man He pities my complaint,
His power and truth are all divine;
He will not fail, He cannot faint;
Salvation's sure, and must be mine.
poem by William Cowper
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Under His Wings
Whatever, my way, this life brings, I am safely under His Wings,
Under the wings of my Lord, by Whom, my life is never ignored,
Safely under His wings of Love, as He protects me from above,
Through this life I can be sure, in my Lord, I am safe and secure.
Within my Lord's Everlasting Arms, I am safe from undue harms,
Though I may run into tribulation, He is The God of my Salvation,
Knowing I'm free from the curse, life without Him was truly worse,
Truly alone in the darkness of sin, without Grace, granted by Him.
As a dark storm pours upon me, I know The Lord God of Eternity,
By The One, in Whom I'm saved, in His palm, I've been engraved,
Engraved forever; there to stay, as He watches me night and day,
Being never far from God's sight, as He guides me day and night.
The One, Who knit me in the womb, is there should troubles loom,
For all of my troubles, He is aware, as I am continually in His care,
I am always in the eyes of The Lord, this by God I'm fully assured,
With me from the beginning to end; He's my Lord, God and friend.
Under The Wings of loving care, of The Lord, Who is always there,
Every new day, to see me through, all of the things God foreknew,
Also, my Lord knows all that's ahead, so I haven't a need to dread,
Any new trials or tribulation, but, just trust the Lord of my Salvation.
(Copyright ©04/2012)
Bowed With a Sense of Sin
Bowed with a sense of sin, I faint
Beneath the complicated load;
Father, attend my deep complaint,
I am Thy creature, Thou my God.
Though I have broke Thy righteous law,
Yet with me let Thy Spirit stay;
Thyself from me do not withdraw,
Nor take my spark of hope away.
Mercy unlimited is Thine;
God of the penitent Thou art;
The saving power of blood divine
Shall ease the anguish of my heart.
Then let not sin my ruin be,
Gives me in Thee my rest to find:
Jesus, the sick have need of Thee,-
Thou great Physician of mankind.
In my salvation, Lord, display
The triumphs of abounding grace;
Tell me my guilt is done away,
And turn my mourning into praise.
Then shall I add my feeble song
To theirs who chant Thy praise on high,
And spread with an immortal tongue
Thy glory through the echoing sky.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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