Or fades my earthly bliss?
My comfort still is this,

May Jesus Christ be praised. 4 When evil thoughts molest, With this I shield my breast,

May Jesus Christ be praised: The powers of darkness fear, When this sweet chant they hear:

May Jesus Christ be praised. 5 Be this, while life is mine, My canticle divine:

May Jesus Christ be praised: Be this the eternal song, Through all the ages on: May Jesus Christ be praised. Tr. by Edward Caswall 1858 J. ZUNDEL

6 8

6 28

S

I was

D.S. I did not love my Father's voice,

ARIEL C. P. M.

MOZART Arr. L. MASON

I was a wandering sheep,
I did not love the fold;

I did not love my Shepherd's voice,

I would not be controlled.

I was a wayward child,

I did not love my home,

I did not love my Father's voice,
I loved afar to roam.

2 The Shepherd sought His sheep,
The Father sought His child,
They followed me o'er vale and hill,
O'er deserts waste and wild:
They found me nigh to death,

Famished and faint, and lone;
They bound me with the bands of love;
They saved the wandering one.

3 I'd sing the characters He bears,
And all the forms of love He wears,
Exalted on His throne;

In loftiest songs of sweetest praise,
I would to everlasting days

Make all His glories known.

4 Well, the delightful day will come When my dear Lord will bring me home, And I shall see His face;

Then with my Saviour, Brother, Friend,
A blest eternity I'll spend,
Triumphant in His grace.

Samuel Medley 1789

3 Jesus my Shepherd is,

"Twas He that loved my soul, 'Twas He that washed me in His blood, "Twas He that made me whole; "Twas He that sought the lost,

That found the wandering sheep, 'Twas He that brought me to the fold, "Tis He that still doth keep.

4 I was a wandering sheep,
I would not be controlled;
But now I love the Shepherd's voice,
I love, I love the fold;

I was a wayward child;

I once preferred to roam;
But now I love my Father's voice,
I love, I love His home.

Horatius Bonar 1844

What mortal tongue display!

Imagination's utmost stretch

In wonder dies away.

ORTONVILLE C. M.

EUSTACE C. M. D.

4

A. E. TOZER

WE sing to Thee, Thou Son of God,

Fountain of life and grace;

We praise Thee, Son of Man, whose blood
Redeemed our fallen race.

2 Thee we acknowledge God and Lord,
The Lamb for sinners slain;
Who art by heaven and earth adored,
Worthy o'er both to reign.

3 To Thee all angels cry aloud,
Through heaven's extended coasts:-
Hail! holy, holy, holy Lord

Of glory and of hosts.

4 The cherubim and seraphim
Incessant sing to Thee;

The worlds and all the powers therein
Adore Thy majesty.

LAUD C. M.

5 The prophets' goodly fellowship,
In radiant garments dressed,
Praise Thee, Thou Son of God, and reap
The fulness of Thy rest.

6 The apostles' glorious company
Thy righteous praise proclaim:
The martyred army glorify

Thine everlasting name.

7 Through all the world, Thy churches join
To call on Thee their Head,
Brightness of majesty Divine,
Who every power hast made.

8 Among their number, Lord, we love
To sing Thy precious blood.
Reign here, and in the worlds above,
Thou Holy Lamb of God.

John Cennick 1742

J. B. DYKES

ST. PETER C. M.

A. R. REINAGLE

24 924

517

How sweet the name of Jesus sounds
In a believer's ear!

It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds,
And drives away his fear.

2 It makes the wounded spirit whole,
And calms the troubled breast;
"Tis manna to the hungry soul,

And to the weary, rest.

3 Dear name! the Rock on which I build, My Shield and Hiding-place,

My never-failing treasury, filled

With boundless stores of grace!

4 Jesus! my Shepherd, Guardian, Friend, My Prophet, Priest, and King:

My Lord, my Life, my Way, my End,
Accept the praise I bring.

5 Weak is the effort of my heart,
And cold my warmest thought;
But when I see Thee as Thou art,
I'll praise Thee as I ought.

CHESTERFIELD C. M.

John Newton 1779

518

My God, I love Thee: not because
I hope for heaven thereby,
Nor yet because who love Thee not
Must die eternally.

2 Thou, O my Jesus, Thou didst me
Upon the cross embrace:

For me didst bear the nails, and spear,
And manifold disgrace;

3 Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ,
Should I not love Thee well?
Not for the hope of winning heaven,
Nor of escaping hell.

4 Not with the hope of gaining aught, Not seeking a reward;

But as Thyself hast loved me,

O ever-loving Lord.

5 So would I love Thee, dearest Lord,
And in Thy praise will sing;
Solely because Thou art my God,
And my eternal King.

Francis Xavier 1552
Tr. by Edward Caswall 1849

T. HAWEIS