Join The Wittenberg Trail
The Word William Walsham How (1832–1897)
O WORD of God incarnate, O Wisdom from on high, O Truth unchanged, unchanging, O Light of our dark sky; We praise thee for the radiance That from the hallowed page, A lantern to our footsteps, Shines on from age to age.
The Church from thee, her Master, Received the gift divine; And still that light she lifteth O’er all the earth to shine. It is the golden casket Where gems of truth are stored; It is the heaven-drawn picture Of, thee, the living Word.
It floateth like a banner Before God’s host unfurled; It shineth like a beacon Above the darkling world; It is the chart and compass That o’er life’s surging sea, Mid mists and rocks and quicksands, Still guide, O Christ, to thee.
Oh, make thy Church, dear Saviour, A lamp of burnished gold, To bear before the nations Thy true light, as of old. Oh, teach thy wandering pilgrims By this their path to trace, Till, clouds and darkness ended, They see thee face to face.
Thee, Lord, before the close of day, Maker of all things, Thee we pray for Thy dear loving kindness’ sake to guard and guide us in Thy way.
Banish the dreams that terrify, and night’s fantastic company; keep us from Satan’s tyranny; defend us from unchastity.
Protect us, Father, God ador’d, Thou, too, coequal Son and Lord, Thou, Holy Ghost, our Advocate, whose reign can know nor bound nor date. St. Ambrose of Milan (Aurelius Ambrosius) (339-397), hymn for compline,
“And Death Shall Have No Dominion” by Dylan Thomas
And death shall have no dominion. Dead men naked they shall be one With the man in the wind and the west moon; When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, They shall have stars at elbow and foot; Though they go mad they shall be sane, Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again; Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion. Under the windings of the sea They lying long shall not die windily; Twisting on racks when sinews give way, Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break; Faith in their hands shall snap in two, And the unicorn evils run them through; Split all ends up they shan’t crack; And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion. No more may gulls cry at their ears Or waves break loud on the seashores; Where blew a flower may a flower no more Lift its head to the blows of the rain; Though they be mad and dead as nails, Heads of the characters hammer through daisies; Break in the sun till the sun breaks down, And death shall have no dominion.
Hymn CXXXIII. The word quick and powerful. Hebrews iv. 12, 13. (1725–1807)
The word of Christ, our Lord, With whom we have to do; Is sharper than a two–edg’d sword, To pierce the sinner thro’!
Swift as the light’nings blaze When aweful thunders roll, It fills the conscience with amaze, And penetrates the soul.
No heart can he conceal’d From his all–piercing eyes; Each thought and purpose stands reveal’d, Naked, without disguise.
He sees his peoples fears, He notes their mournful cry; He counts their sighs and falling tears, And helps them from on high.
Tho’ feeble is their good, It has his kind regard; Yea, all they would do, if they could, Shall find a sure reward.
He sees the wicked too, And will repay them soon, For all the evil deeds they do, And all they would have done.
Since all our secret ways Are mark’d and known by thee; Afford us, Lord, thy light of grace That we ourselves may see.
—Olney Hymns. Book I: On Select Passages of Scripture.
In Evil Long I Took Delight
In Evil long I took delight,
Unawed by shame or fear.
Till a new object struck my sight,
and stopp’d my wild career:
I saw one hanging on a tree
By agonies and blood,
Who fixed His languid eyes on me,
as near His cross I stood.
Sure never till my latest breath,
Can I forget that look:
It seemed to charge me with His death,
Though not a Word I spoke:
My conscience felt and own’d the guilt
and plunged me in despair:
I saw my sins,His blood had spilt,
and helped to nail Him there
Alas I knew not what I did!
But now my tears are vain:
Where shall my trembling soul be hid?
For I the Lord hath slain!
-a second look He gave which said,
“I freely all forgive;
This blood is for my ransom aid:
I die that thou may’st live.”
Thus while His death my sin displays
In all its blackest hue:
Such is the mystery of grace,
It seals my pardon too.
With pleasing grief, and mournful joy,
My spirit now is filled,
That I should such a life destroy,
Yet live by him I killed
By John Newton-(Author of Amazing Grace- former slave owner and slave, a man so depraved even his fellow sailors abhored Him, but saved by the amazing grace of God!)
Welcome toThe Wittenberg Trail
Sign Upor Sign In
Add an item to the
© 2013 Created by Norm Fisher.
Report an Issue to the WT Admin |
Terms of Service
Please check your browser settings or contact your system administrator.