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From the Canon of the Dead: Ode VIII

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #115 (1902) Meter: 8.8.8.8.8.8 First Line: Who toiled for Christ through suffering sore Lyrics: Who toiled for Christ through suffering sore, And meekly grief and anguish bore; And in their service steadfast strove, To serve the Master Whom they love,-- Now rest in His eternal peace, Through ages that shall never cease. Who toil as they, and faithful prove The servants of the Lord they love, When toil is o'er and suffering past, Enter the bliss of heaven at last,-- And rest in His eternal peace, Through ages that shall never cease. Languages: English

Idiomela of S. John the Monk

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #116 (1902) Meter: 7.6.7.6 First Line: What joy of life abideth Lyrics: What joy of life abideth, Without the smart of woe? What glory lingers fadeless Upon our world below? All is a fleeting shadow, And all a fitful gleam, For death with cruel swiftness, Dissolves the illusive dream. O Christ a light unfailing, A beauty lasting, rare, Shines in Thy face to charm us, And cheer us everywhere. Where Thou art aye abiding, Where we that light may see, Grant us, O Christ our Saviour, For evermore to be. Languages: English

Sticheron (From the Burial Office for a Layman)

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #118 (1902) Meter: 6.7.6.7 First Line: Come friends behold me here Lyrics: Come friends behold me here, Speechless and breathless lying; Held in the arms of death;-- Come with your tears and sighing. But yesterday I lived, And walked, and spoke with you: Come friends, with the last kiss. Bid me a long adieu. For I shall walk no more The wonted paths we trod; My voice is stilled, I go To speak alone with God. The Judge has called me hence,-- To Whom the wise and great, The warrior and the king, Are men of one estate. Ah! not the name I bore Shall final doom recall; The life of each lies bare, Before the Judge of all. For all the good I've done, For all the ill and blame,-- Shall come to me in full, The honour or the shame. Call ye on Christ our God That by His saving might, I may a dwelling find Among the sons of light. Languages: English

Stichera (From the Burial Office for a Child)

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #120 (1902) Meter: 6.6.6.6.6 First Line: Who would not weep my child Lyrics: Who would not weep my child To see thee still and dead?-- Thou from maternal arms, Even as a bird hast fled:-- Who would not weep my child? Who would not weep my child To see thy faded brow, Once like the lily, fair, But lost to beauty now?-- Who would not weep my child? Who would not weep my child?-- Like ship on boundless sea, That leaves no track behind, Lo, thou art gone from me,-- Who would not weep my child? Languages: English

Stichera

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #121 (1902) Meter: 6.7.6.7.6.6.6.6.8.8 First Line: O Paradise above! Lyrics: O Paradise above! In glory all excelling; There hath the God of love, Fixed an eternal dwelling; There loveliest beauty shines, And pleasure endless thrills; There love the soul entwines, And peace the bosom fills. The saints of God frequent its bowers, And whispers fan its fragrant flowers. Here would I humbly fall, Before my God adoring, That He may heed the call, I bring to Him imploring; And open wide the gate, Closed by the hand of sin, That, with the saints, thus late, I yet may enter in; And taste the tree of life that grows, To heal the smart of mortal woes. Languages: English

Vain the Bliss from Earth that Springs

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #125 (1902) Meter: 7.7.7.7 Lyrics: Vain the bliss from earth that springs,-- Life is but an empty shade; All our toil its bounty brings, Made of what our dreams are made. When with toil the mountain's height Lies beneath our weary feet; When the goal we kept in sight, Yields the victory to the fleet;-- Fades the landscape from our view, Droops the laurel on our brow, False the things we thought were true, Gone the joys that lured us, now. Ah! the world we gain to lose, Ends our triumph with the grave; All earth's wealth and power refuse What vain hope exulting gave. Christ, Thou Lover of our race, When the strife of earth is o'er, Give our weary souls a place, In Thy Kingdom evermore. Languages: English

Hail! The Morn with Gladness Crowned

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #127 (1902) Meter: 7.8.7.8 Lyrics: Hail! the morn with gladness crowned, Morn of morns, O glad and glorious! When the Lord of Life, renowned, Brake the bands of death, victorious. Hades gazed in dread surprise, As the light the darkness sundered; Prisoners raised their weary eyes Lit with hope, and mutely wondered. Wounded was the Victor's brow, Where the angry thorns distressed it; But the conqueror's laurel now Winding, on His forehead rested. Hail! the Man from death arisen. Hail! the Christ a Victor glorious. Thou hast broken hades' prison, Christ, the Son of God, victorious. Languages: English

Close Beside the Heart that Loves Me

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #128 (1902) Meter: 8.7.8.7 Lyrics: Close beside the heart that loves me Would I rest in sorrow's hour, With a Father's smile above me, And beneath an arm of power. Weak and worthless, worn and weary, Welcome bids my faith be strong; Sorrow's hour is short if dreary, Joy shall last through ages long. Dark the hour, but comes the morrow, Dawn shall waken by and by; Light shall gild the clouds of sorrow, When the sun is in the sky. Rest, my soul, that love unfailing Strengthens in the hour of woe,-- For the pain thy life assailing Found Him when he dwelt below. 'Tis a heart that knows the sorrow, Trust it when the night comes down;-- Tears shall yield to song to-morrow, Night to morn, and cross to crown. Languages: English

The Time Shall Surely Come

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #130 (1902) Meter: 6.6.8.6 Lyrics: The time shall surely come, The hour is drawing near, When in the clouds of heaven the Lord To mortals shall appear. Not in a lowly garb, Shall we the Lord descry, But decked in glory like the sun, That lights the morning sky. Not as in former days, To pain and suffering sore,-- He comes to judge, Who came to save,-- To reign for evermore. Then, O my soul, awake! Put on thy garb of light, Look for the dawn that brings the day, All glorious and bright. Wait, for the hour is nigh; Watch, for His coming nears; Be thou the faithful servant then, When He, thy Lord, appears. Languages: English

The Transfiguration

Author: John Brownlie Hymnal: BHHEC #132 (1902) Meter: 8.8.8.8 First Line: When glory crowned the mountain top Lyrics: When glory crowned the mountain top, And Christ was decked in garments fair, The prophets of the Lord appeared, And talked with the Redeemer there. "Let us make this our dwelling-place," 'Twas thus his followers made request; "For it is good to linger here, And they who dwell with Thee are blest." Then from a cloud a voice was heard, While each in terror held his breath,-- "This is My Own beloved Son, Hear ye what the Belovéd saith." Jesus, when Thy glory gilds The mount of God whereon we meet, May we the voice from Heaven discern, And bow expectant at Thy feet. Languages: English