Hymns for Sunday 29th March, 2020 St Columba’s, Pont Street
Hymn 87 (Tune: Martyrdom)
1 Lord, from the depths to thee I cried.
My voice, Lord, do thou hear:
unto my supplications' voice
give an attentive ear.
2 Lord, who shall stand, if thou, O Lord,
should'st mark iniquity?
But yet with thee forgiveness is,
that feared though mayest be.
3 I wait for God, my soul doth wait,
my hope is in his word.
More than they that for morning watch,
my soul waits for the Lord;
4 I say, more than they that do watch
the morning light to see.
Let Israel hope in God the Lord,
for with him mercies be;
5 And plenteous redemption
is ever found with him.
And from all their iniquities
he Israel shall redeem.
Hymn 495 (Tune: Song 22)
1 Spirit of God, who dwells within my heart,
wean it from sin, through all its pulses move.
Stoop to my weakness, mighty as you are,
and make me love you as I ought to love.
2 I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies,
no sudden rending of the veil of clay,
no angel visitant, no opening skies;
but take the dimness of my soul away.
3 Did you not bid us love you, God and King,
love you with all our heart and strength and mind?
I see the cross there teach my heart to cling.
O let me seek you and O let me find!
4 Teach me to feel that you are always nigh;
teach me the struggles of the soul to bear,
to check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh;
teach me the patience of unceasing prayer.
5 Teach me to love you as your angels love,
one holy passion filling all my frame:
the fullness of the heaven-descended Dove;
my heart an altar, and your love the flame.
Hymn 535 (Tune: Monk’s Gate)
1 Who would valiant be 'against all disaster,
let him in constancy follow the Master.
There's no discouragement shall make him once relent
his first avowed intent to be a pilgrim.
2 Who so beset him round with dismal stories,
do but themselves confound--his strength the more is.
No foes shall stay his might, though he with giants fight;
he will make good his right to be a pilgrim.
3 Since, Lord, Thou dost defend us with Thy Spirit
we know we at the end shall life inherit.
Then, fancies, flee away! I'll fear not what men say,
I'll labour night and day to be a pilgrim.