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In Christ I Feel the Heart of God
Author: Lucy Larcom Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #2962 Meter: 8.6.8.6.8.8 Lyrics: 1. In Christ I feel the heart of God
Throbbing from Heav’n through earth;
Life stirs again within the clod,
Renewed in beauteous birth;
The soul springs up, a flower of prayer,
Breathing His breath out on the air.
2. In Christ I touch the hand of God,
From His pure height reached down,
By blessèd ways before untrod,
To lift us to our crown;
Vict’ry that only perfect is
Through loving sacrifice, like His.
3. Holding His hand, my steadied feet
May walk the air, the seas;
On life and death His smile falls sweet,
Lights up all mysteries;
Stranger nor exile can I be
In new worlds where He leadeth me.
4. Not my Christ only; He is ours:
Humanity’s close bond;
Key to its vast, unopened powers,
Dream of our dreams beyond.
What yet we shall be none can tell:
Now we are His, and all is well. Languages: English Tune Title: SOLITUDE
In Christ I Feel the Heart of God
Bless'd Is The Man Who Makes The Word
Author: Harriet Auber Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #9642 Meter: 8.6.8.6.8.8 First Line: Bless’d is the man who makes the word Lyrics: 1 Bless’d is the man who makes the word
Of God his constant guide;
There learns the path his Savior trod,
Nor turns his step aside,
But shuns the broad and flowery way
Where vice and folly love to stray.
2 He, like a tree whose spreading root
Refreshing waters lave,
Whose bending boughs with golden fruit
In rich luxuriance wave,
Shall firmly stand when storms invade—
No leaf shall fall, no blossom fade.
3 And when, his life’s brief summer o’er,
He shares the general doom,
Though earth shall know his place no more,
In Heaven he still shall bloom;
And there, with endless glory crowned,
In fruits of righteousness abound. Languages: English Tune Title: SOLITUDE
Bless'd Is The Man Who Makes The Word
Angels Unawares
Author: Clara H. Thwaites Hymnal: The Cyber Hymnal #11764 Meter: 8.6.8.6.8.8 First Line: They come to us in simple guise Lyrics: 1 They come to us in simple guise,
In common garb. In sooth
They are not lovely in our eyes,
Though fair in love and truth.
We greet them coldly; after years
We call them "Angels Unawares."
2 There is no halo round their brow,
As pictured saint may bear;
Nay, rather, sorrow marks them now
With stain of grief or tear.
And smiling satire scarcely spares
These mournful "Angels Unawares."
3 They have no eloquence of speech
For us, with fluent flow;
And yet their lovely lives might reach
The heights which angels know.
We scarcely note the beauty theirs,
Till lost—these "Angels Unawares."
4 Or some we scorn! How strange it is
That looks should vex us thus!
That we should spurn, because we miss
Some manner dear to us!
When Memory sings her tender airs
She calls them "Angels Unawares."
5 We deem ’twere easier far of old
Some sandaled saint to greet,
On tented plain, when skies were gold,
And orient airs were sweet.
Saints meet us now ’mid thronging cares
Pass on—are "Angels Unawares."
6 Sweet songs they sing, brave words they say,
Unheeded though they be,
Until, the singer caught away,
We learn their mystery:
Then, singing up the golden stairs,
They beckon—"Angels Unawares."
7 O would we pause, with Christ-like grace,
To aid our fellow-men,
Be not too busy in life’s race
To love as brethren:
Across life’s waste would blow soft airs,
While angels walk, not "Unawares."
Languages: English Tune Title: SOLITUDE
Angels Unawares
