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Arrived

Author: T. S. M. Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: We are come unto Mount Zion Lyrics: We are come unto Mount Zion, On Thy holy hill we stand, The crusaders whose march is ended, The risen and the ascended, All hail! Immanuel’s land! We are come unto the City, Where our living God art Thou; Thou Who barest our sin and sorrow, Who comest in joy to-morrow, Thou communest with us now— To Jerusalem the golden, To the Gates of Praise we come, To the walls of Thy strong salvation, The chambers of consolation, The wandering ones brought home— To the companies of Angels We declare Thy glorious grace— In the stoles by Thy Blood made whiter, And crowned with a radiance brighter Than they who behold Thy Face. We are come to the great Assembly Of the first-born sons of God, The enrolled in the ancient ages, In love’s everlasting pages, Names registered there in Blood. With our God, the Judge of all men, Undismayed, unshamed we meet, For the tears of a sinner shriven, The kisses of lips forgiven, For ever anoint His Feet. With the spirits pure and holy Of the saints of ancient years, Of the loved ones whom death made dearer, The absent who yet are nearer, We worship amidst our tears. We are come unto Thee, Lord Jesus, We have found Thee where Thou art; In Thy still pavilion hiding, For ever in peace abiding— Our eternal Home Thy heart. We are come where the Priest has sprinkled On the everlasting throne, On the Ark where Thy glory dwelleth, The Blood that for ever telleth The work is done.

The Hearing Ear

Author: T. S. M. Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: O Holy and mighty and marvellous Word Lyrics: O Holy and mighty and marvellous Word That speakest ever to me; As of old in the silence of Eden heard In the shade of the sacred Tree— O Word from the depths of the ancient years, From deserts Thy pilgrims trod, From the hidden chambers of saints and seers, From the secret place of God— From the well of Sychar, the gate of Nain, From the winds of the midnight sea, Thou speakest in marvellous songs again In the stillness of night to me. From the noonday darkness the solemn Voice Tells of my judgment borne— And it calls to my soul to sing and rejoice From the glow of the First-day morn. Unsilenced yet to the ear that hears, Thou Voice of eternal bliss, Thou speakest in speech that is deeper than tears, And sweet as the Father’s kiss. In Heaven the marvellous song ascends, And in chambers mean and dim, Where over the dead the mourner bends, There steals the eternal Hymn.

The Power

Author: J. Tauler, d. 1361 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: Rest from longing and desire Lyrics: Rest from longing and desire O thou weary heart! Dost thou ween thy choice has been Not the lower but the higher, Thine the better part? And therefore dost thou long with bitter longing From the day dawn to the night. For the holiness, the rest of His beloved Who walk with Him in white? Thou art wearied with the striving and the yearning For the crown that thou wouldst win; Thou hast learnt but thine immensity of weakness, But the mystery of thy sin. Beloved, the Lord spake to me in comfort When thus it was with me— “Wert thou cast all alone upon thy mantle, All alone upon the sea— Nought round thee but immensity of waters, No strength in thee to swim, How, seeing only God in Heaven above thee, Wouldst thou cast thyself on Him?” Therefore thank Him for thy helplessness, beloved, And if thou needs must long, Let it be but for the rest of utter weakness, In the Arms for ever strong. Long only that He make thee bare and empty— Take all that is thine own, Thy prowess, and thy strength, and thine endeavour, And leave thee God alone. In the stillness of that peace the work is ended By Him, and not by thee; The end of His desire and His longing To see thee stand in stainless white before Him Is that which needs must be.

Marah

Author: Richard Rolle, d. 1349 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: Many sorrows hard and bitter Lyrics: Many sorrows hard and bitter, Many comforts sweet and soft; Thus my cry as joyful singing Evermore shall mount aloft. Song of marvellous rejoicing As in Heaven the blessed sing, For the love of Christ has filled me With His sweetest plenishing. Joy no thought of man conceiveth, Howsoever deep his lore; None can tell but he who hath it, Hath it now and evermore. Ill they spake, “Can God provide us, Cheer amidst the wilderness?” He a feast of joy has furnished, Feast of sweetness, love, and bliss. In the desert Bread He giveth, So that nought we crave beside, Raineth the delight of Heaven, We are more than satisfied. Thus my sorrow turns to music And my cry to sweetest song; Weeping to eternal gladness, Night is short—the Day is long.

The Home of the Soul

Author: Mechthild of Hellfde, d. 1277 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: The mind saith to the soul Lyrics: The mind saith to the soul— “In the glory of God no foot hath trod; A devouring Fire dread to see; In the blinding light of the face of God No soul can be. For thou knowest that all high Heaven is bright With a glory beyond the sun, With the radiance of the saints in light, And the fount of that Light is one. From the breath of the everlasting God, From the mouth of the Man Divine, From the counsel of God the Holy Ghost Doth that awful glory shine. Soul, couldst thou abide for an hour alone In the burning fire around His throne?” And the soul makes answer— The fish drowns not in the mighty sea, The bird sinks not in the air, The gold in the furnace fire may be, And is yet more radiant there. For God to each of His creatures gave The place to its nature known; And shall it not be that my heart should crave For that which is mine own? For my nature seeketh her dwelling-place, That only, and none other; The child must joy in the Father’s face, The brethren in the Brother. To the bridal chamber goeth the bride, For love is her home and rest; And shall not I in His light abide, When I lean upon His breast? * * * * * And she who is beloved with love untold, Thus goes to Him Who is divinely fair, In His still Chamber of unsullied gold, And love all pure, all holy, greets her there— The love of His eternal Godhead high, The love of His divine Humanity. Then speaketh He and saith, “Beloved one, What wouldst thou? It is thine. From self shalt thou go forth for evermore, For thou art Mine. O soul! no angel for an hour might dream Of all the riches that I give to thee; The glory and the beauty that beseem The heritage of life that is in Me. Yet satisfied, thou shalt for ever long, So sweeter shall be thine eternal song.” O Lord my God, so small, so poor am I, And great, Almighty, O my God, art Thou! “Yet art thou joined to Christ eternally, My love a changeless everlasting NOW.” And thus the joyful soul is still At rest in God’s eternal will; And she is His, and thus delighteth He Her own to be.

In the Garden of God

Author: Mechthild of Hellfde, d. 1277 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: When mine eyes are dim with weeping Lyrics: When mine eyes are dim with weeping, And my tongue with grief is dumb; And it is as if Thou wert sleeping, When my heart calleth, “Come;” When I hunger with bitter hunger O Lord for Thee, Where art Thou then, Belovèd? Speak, speak to me— “I am where I was in the ancient days, I in Myself must be; In all things I am, and in every place, For there is no change in Me. Where the sun is My Godhead, throned above, For thee, O Mine own I wait; I wait for thee in the Garden of love, Till thou comest irradiate, With the light that shines from My Face divine, And I pluck the flowers for thee; They are thine, beloved, for they are Mine, And thou art one with Me. In the tender grass by the waters still I have made thy resting-place; Thy rest shall be sweet in My holy will, And sure in My changeless grace— And I bend for thee the holy Tree, Where blossoms the mystic Rod, The highest of all the trees that be In the Paradise of God. And thou of that Tree of life shalt eat, Of the Life that is in Me; Thou shalt feed on the fruit that is good for meat, And passing fair to see. There, overshadowed by mighty wings Of the Holy Spirit’s peace, Beyond the sorrow of earthly things, The toil and the tears shall cease. And there beneath the eternal Tree I will teach thy lips to sing, The sweet new song that is strange to thee In the land of thy banishing. They follow the Lamb where’er He goes To whom it is revealed; The pure and the undefiled are those, The ransomed and the sealed. Thou shalt learn the speech and the music rare, And thou shalt sing as they, Not only there in my garden fair, But here belovèd, to-day! O Lord, a faint and a feeble voice Is mine in this house of clay, But Thy love hath made my lips rejoice, And I can sing and say, “I am pure, O Lord, for Thou art pure, Thy love and mine are one; And my robe is white, for Thine is white, And brighter than the sun. Thy mouth and mine can know no moan, No note of man’s sad mirth, But the everlasting joy alone Unknown to songs of earth; And for ever fed on that living Tree, I will sing the song of Thy love with Thee.”

Dwelling in Love

Author: Mechthild of Hellfde, d. 1277 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: I rejoice that I cannot but love Him Lyrics: I rejoice that I cannot but love Him, Because He first loved me; I would that measureless, changeless, My love might be; A love unto death and for ever; For, soul, He died for thee. Give thanks that for thee He delighted To leave His glory on high; For thee to be humbled, forsaken, For thee to die. Wilt thou render Him love for His loving? Wilt thou die for Him who died? And so by thy dying and living Shall Christ be magnified. And deep in the fiery stream that flows From God’s high throne, In the burning tide that for ever glows Of the marvellous love unknown; For ever, O soul, thou shalt burn and glow, And thou shalt sing and say, “I need no call at His feet to fall, For I cannot turn away. I am the captive led along With the joy of His triumphal song; In the depths of love do I love and move, I joy to live or to die; For I am borne on the tide of His love To all eternity:” The foolishness of the fool is this, The sorrow sweeter than joy to miss.

The Gift

Author: Mechthild of Hellfde, d. 1277 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: What dost thou bring me, O my Queen? Lyrics: “What dost thou bring me, O my Queen? Love maketh thy steps to fly.” Lord, to Thee my jewel I bring, Greater than mountains high; Broader than all the earth’s broad lands, Heavier than the ocean sands, And higher it is than the sky: Deeper it is than the depths of the sea, And fairer than the sun, Unreckoned, as if the stars could be All gathered into one. “O thou My Godhead’s image fair, Thou Eve from Adam framed, My flesh, My bone, My life to share, My Spirit’s diadem to wear, How is thy jewel named?” Lord, it is called my heart’s desire, From the world’s enchantments won; I have borne it afar through flood and fire And will yield it up to none; But the burden I can bear no more— Where shall I lay it up in store? “There is no treasure-house but this, My heart divine, My Manhood’s breast; There shall My Spirit’s sacred kiss Fill thee with rest.”

A Song in the Night

Author: Mechthild of Hellfde, d. 1277 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: O Jesus Lord, most fair, most passing sweet Lyrics: O Jesus Lord, most fair, most passing sweet, In darkest hours revealed in love to me, In those dark hours I fall before Thy feet, I sing to Thee. I join the song of love, and I adore With those who worship Thee for evermore. Thou art the Sun of every eye, The Gladness everywhere, The guiding Voice for ever nigh, The Strength to do and bear; The sacred Lore of wisdom’s store, The Life of life to all, The Order mystic, marvellous In all things great and small. Thy love hast Thou told from the days of old, Engraved on Thy hands and Thy feet it stands, And on Thy side as a sign; O glorious Man in the garden of God, Thy sacred Manhood is mine. I kneel on the golden floor of Heaven With my box of ointment sweet, Grant unto me, Thy much forgiven, To kiss and anoint Thy feet. “Where wilt thou find that ointment rare, O My belovèd one?” Thou brakest my heart, and didst find it there, Rest sweetly there alone. “There is no embalming so sweet to Me As to dwell, my well-belovèd, in thee.” Lord, take me home to Thy palace fair, So will I ever anoint Thee there. “I will, but My plighted troth saith, ‘Wait,’ And My love saith, ‘Work to-day;’ My meekness saith, ‘Be of low estate,’ And My longing, ‘Watch and pray;’ My shame and sorrow say, ‘Bear My cross;’ My song saith, ‘Win the crown;’ My guerdon saith, ‘All else is loss;’ My patience saith, ‘Be still;’ Till thou shalt lay the burden down, Then, when I will. Then, beloved, the crown and palm, And then the music and the psalm; And the cup of joy My hand shall fill Till it overflow; And with singing I strike the harp of gold I have tuned below. The harp I tune in desolate years Of sorrow and tears, Till a music sweet the chords repeat, Which all the heavens shall fill; For the holy courts of God made meet, Then, when I will.”

Things Seen and Heard

Author: Mechthild of Hellfde, d. 1277 Appears in 1 hymnal First Line: Thou hast shone within this soul of mine Lyrics: Thou hast shone within this soul of mine, As the sun on a shrine of gold; When I rest my heart, O Lord, on Thine, My bliss is manifold. My soul is the gem on Thy diadem, And my marriage robe Thou art; If aught could sever my heart from Thine, The sorrow beyond all sorrows were mine, Alone and apart. Could I not find Thy love below, Then would my soul as a pilgrim go To Thy holy land above; There would I love Thee as I were fain With everlasting love. Now have I sung my tuneless song, But I hearken, Lord, for Thine; So shall a music, sweet and strong, Pass into mine. “I am the Light, and the lamp thou art; The River, and thou the thirsty land; To thee thy sighs have drawn My heart, And ever beneath thee is My Hand. And when thou weepest it needs must be Within Mine arms that encompass thee; Thy heart from Mine can none divide, For one are the Bridegroom and the Bride; It is sweet, beloved, for Me and thee To wait for the Day that is to be.” O Lord, with hunger and thirst I wait, With longing before Thy golden gate, Till the Day shall dawn When from Thy lips divine have passed The sacred words that none may hear But the soul that, loosed from the earth at last, Hath laid her ear To the mouth that speaks in the still sweet morn Apart and alone— Then shall the secret of love be told The mystery known.