MUSIC
Inspired by the Gospel of Jesus Christ, our Redeemer!
The Poetry from Timely Greetings
Trust and Obey
When we walk with the Lord
In the light of His Word,
What a glory He sheds on our way!
While we do His good will,
He abides with us still,
And with all who will trust and obey.
Not a burden will bear, not a sorrow will share,
But our toil He doth richly repay;
Not a grief nor a loss,
Not a frown nor a cross,
But is if we trust and obey.
But we never can prove
The delights of His love,
Until all on the alter we lay,
For the favor He shows,
And the joy He bestows,
Are for them who will trust and obey.
— J.H. Sammis (TG Vol. 1 No. 8)
The Sacred Page
A glory gilds the sacred page,
Majestic like the sun;
It gives a light to every age,
It gives, but borrows none.
The Spirit breathes upon the word,
And brings the truth to sight;
Precepts and promises afford
A sanctifying light.
The hand that gave it, still supplies
The fractious light and heat;
His truths upon the nations rise,
They rise, but never set.
Let everlasting thanks be thine,
For such a bright display;
It makes a world of darkness shine
With beams of heavenly day.
— Wm Cowper (Tg Vol. 1 No. 8)
The Gifts of God
His gifts are greater than my dreams,
The gifts of God to me;
As countless as the sunset’s golden beams,
As boundless as the sea.
Within my heart He shall have place
To rule and reign supreme;
My voice will ever praise Him for the grace
Of which I ne’er could dream.
I ask a part, He gives the whole—
Himself, and all beside;
His loving-kindness overflows my soul,
In rushing as the tide.
Within my heart He shall have place
To rule and reign supreme;
My voice will ever praise Him for the grace
Of which I ne’er could dream.
His gifts are greater than my dreams,
The gifts of Him who set me free;
And more and more abundant daily seems
The grace of God to me.
Within my heart He shall have place
To rule and reign supreme;
My voice will ever praise Him for the grace
Of which I ne’er could dream.
—J.B. Pounds (TG Vol. 1 No. 50)
Heading 3
Solemn Thought
O solemn thought! And can it be
The hour of Judgment now is come,
Which soon must fix our destiny,
And seal the sinner’s fearful doom?
Yes, it is so; the Judgement hour
Is swiftly hastening to its close;
Then will the Judge, in nightly power,
Descend in vengeance on His foes.
He who came down to earth to die,
An offering for the sins of men,
And then ascended up on high,
And will ere long return again,
Is standing now before the ark,
And mercy-seat, and cherubim,
To plead His blood for saints, and make
The last remembrance of their sin.
The solemn moment is at hand
When we who have his name confessed,
Each in his lot must singly stand,
And pass the final, searching test.
Jesus! We hope in Thee alone;
In mercy now upon us look,
Confess our names before the throne,
And blot our sins from out Thy book.
O Blessed Saviour! May we feel
The full importance of this hour.
Inspire our hearts with holy Zeal,
And aid us by Thy Spirit’s power,
That we may, in Thy strength, be strong,
And brave the conflict valiantly;
Then, on Mount Zion, join the song,
And swell the notes of victory.
— R. F. Cottrell (TG Vol. 2 No. 32)
The Cloud and Fire
As of old when the hosts of Israel
Were compelled in the wilderness to dwell,
Trusting they in their God to lead the way,
To the light of perfect day.
To and fro as a ship without sail,
Not a compass to guide them through the vale,
But the sign of their God was ever near,
Thus their fainting hearts to cheer.
All the days of their wanderings they were fed
To the land of the promise they were led;
By the hand of the Lord, in the guidance sure,
They were brought to Canaan’s shore.
So the sign of the fire by night,
And the sign of the cloud by day,
Hovering o’re , just before,
As they journey on their way,
Shall a guide and a leader be,
Till the wilderness be past,
For the Lord our God
In His own good time
Shall lead to the light at last.
—C.A. Miles (TG Vol. 2 No. 4)
Can the World See Jesus in You?
Do we live so close to the Lord today,
Passing to and fro on life’s busy way,
That the world in us can a lioness see
To the Man of Calvary?
Do we love, with love to His own akin,
All His creatures lost in the mire of sin?
Will we reach a hand, whatsoever it cost,
To reclaim a sinner lost?
As an open book they our lives will read,
To our words and acts giving daily heed;
Will they be attracted, or turn away
From the Man of Calvary?
Can the world see Jesus in Me?
Can the World See Jesus in you?
Does your love to Him ring true,
And your life and service, too?
Can the world see Jesus in you?
—Mrs. C.H. Morris (TG Vol. 1 No. 6)
A Christian
Could I be called a Christian
If everybody knew
My secret thoughts and feelings
And everything I do?
Oh could they see the likeness
Of Christ in me each day?
Oh, could they hear Him speaking
In every word I say?
Could I be called a Christian
If everybody could know
That I am found in places
Where Jesus would not go?
Oh, could they hear His echo
In every song I sing?
In eating, drinking, dressing
Could they see Christ in me?
Could I be called a Christian
If judged by what I read,
By all my recreations
And every thought and deed?
Could I be counted Christlike
As I now work and pray
Unselfish, kind, forgiving
To others every day?
— The Evangel (TG Vol. 1, N0. 2)
There’s a Wideness in God’s Mercy
There’s a wideness in God’s mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea;
There’s a kindness in His justice,
Which is more than Liberty.
If our love were but more simple,
We should take Him at His Word;
And our lives should be all sunshine
In the sweetness of our Lord.
There is welcome for the sinner,
And more graces for the good;
There is mercy with the Saviour
There is healing in His blood.
If our love were but more simple,
We should take Him at His Word;
And our lives should be all sunshine
In the sweetness of our Lord.
For the love of God is broader
Than the measure of man’s mind
And the heart of the eternal
Is most wonderfully kind.
If our love were but more simple,
We should take Him at His Word;
And our lives should be all sunshine
In the sweetness of our Lord.
—Frederick W. Faber (TG Vol. 1 No. 41)
Heading 3
He
The Church Walking with the World
The Church and the World walked for apart
On the changing shores of time,
The World was singing a giddy song,
And the Church a hymn sublime.
“Come, give me your hand,” said the merry World,
“And walk with me this way!”
But the good Church hid her snowy hands
And solemnly answered, “Nay,
I will not give you my hand at all,
And I will not walk with you;
Your way is the way that leads to death;
Your words are all untrue.”
“Nay, walk with me but a little space,”
Said the World with a kindly air;
“The road I walk is a pleasant road,
And the sun shines always there;
Your path is thorny and rough and rude,
But mine is broad and plain;
My way is paved with flowers and dews,
And yours with tears and pain;
The sky to me is always blue,
No want, no toil I know;
They sky above you is always dark,
Your lot is a lot of woe;
There’s room enough for you and me
To travel side by side.”
ading 3
Half shyly the Church approached the World,
And gave him her hand of snow;
And the old World grasped it and walked along,
Saying, in accents low,
“Your dress is too simple to please my taste;
I will give you pearls to wear,
Rich velvets and silks for your graceful form,
And diamond to deck your hair.”
The Church looked down at her plain white robes,
And then at the dazzling World,
And blushed as she saw his handsome lip
With a smile, "contemptuous one,”
Said he Church, with a time of grace;
Then her pure white garments drifted away,
And the World gave, in their place,
Beautiful satins and shining silks,
Roses and gems and costly pearls;
While over her forehead her bright hair fell
Crisped in a thousand curls.
“Your house is to plain,” said the proud old World,
“I’ll build you one like mine,
With walls of marble and towers of gold,
And furniture ever so fine.”
So he built her a costly and beautiful house;
Most splendid it was to behold;
Her sons and her beautiful daughters dwelt there
Gleaming in purple and gold;
Rich fairs and show in the halls were held,
And the World and his children were there.
Laughter and music and feasts were heard
In the place that was meant for prayer.
There were cushioned seats for the rich and the gay,
To sit in their pomp and pride;
But the poor who were clad in shabby array,
Sat meekly down outside.
You gave too much to the poor,” said the World.
“Far more than yo bout to do;
If they are in need of shelter and food,
Why need it trouble you?
Go, take your money and buy rich robes,
Buy horses and carriages fine;
Buy pearls and jewels and dainty food,
My children, they dote on all these things,
And if you their love would win
You mist do as they do, and walk in the ways
That they are walking in.”
So the poor were turned from their door in scorn,
And she heard not the orphan’s cry,
But she drew her beautiful robes aside.
As the windows went weeping by.
Then the sons of the World and the Sons of the Church
Walked closely hand and heart,
And only the Master, who knoweth all,
Could tell the two apart.
Then the Church sat down at her ease, and said,
“I am rich and my goods increased;
I have need of nothing, or aught to do,
But to laugh, and dance, and feast.”
The sly World heard, and he laughed in his sleeve,
And mockingly said, aside
“The Church is fallen, the beautiful Church;
And her shame is her boast and her pride,”
The angel drew near to the mercy seat, And whispered in sighs her name;
Then the loud anthems of rapture were hushed,
And heads were covered with shame;
And a voice was heard at last by the Church
From Him who sat on the throne,
“I know they works, and how thou has said,
I’I am rich,” and hast not known
That though art naked, and poor and blind,
And wretched before my face;
Therefore Fromm my presence as I thee out,
And blot they name from its place.”
—Matilda C. Edwards (TG Vol. 1 No. 6)
Depth of Mercy
Depth of mercy! Can there be
Mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God His wrath forbear,
Me, the chief of sinners spare?
There for me the Saviour stands,
Shows His wounds and spreads His hands,
God is Love! I know, I feel;
Jesus weeps and loves me still.
I have long withstood His grace,
Love provoked Him to His face,
Would not hearken to His calls,
Grieved Him by a thousand falls.
There for me the Saviour stands,
Shows His woulds and spreads His hands,
God is Love! I know, I feel;
Jesus weeps and loves me still.
—Unknown (TG Vol. 1 No. 26)
The Lord is Coming
The Lord is coming! Seas, retire!
Ye mountains, melt to liquid fire!
Ye oceans, cease to ebb and flow!
His stately stepping ye should know.
The Lord is coming! Watch and pray!
So shalt thou hasten that glad day;
So shalt thou then escape the snare,
And Christ’s eternal glory share.
The Lord is coming! Who shall stand?
Who shall be found at His right hand?—
He with the righteous garment on
Which Christ our glorious King hath won.
The Lord is coming! Watch and pray!
So shalt thou hasten that glad day;
So shalt thou then escape the snare,
And Christ’s eternal glory share.
—Anon (TG Vol. 2 No. 37)
Soon He Comes
Long upon the mountain, weary
Have the scattered flock been torn;
Dark the desert paths, and dreary;
Grievous trails have they borne.
Now the gathering call is sounding,
Solemn in its warning voice;
Union faith, and love abounding,
Bid the little flock rejoice.
Now the light of truth they’re seeking,
In its onward track pursue;
All the ten commandments keeping,
They are holy, just, and true.
On the words of life they’re feeding,
Precious to their taste, so sweet;
All their Master’s precepts heeding,
Bowing humbly at His feet.
In that world of light and beauty,
In that golden city fair,
Soon its pearly gates they’ll enter,
And of all its glories share.
There, divine the soul’s expansions;
Free from sin, and death, and pain;
Tears will never dim those mansions
Where the saints immortal reign.
Soon He comes! With clouds descending;
All His saints, entombed, arise;
The redeemed, in anthems blending,
Shout their victory through the skies.
O, we long for Thine appearing;
Come, O Saviour, quickly come!
Blessed hope! Our spirits cheering,
Take Thy ransomed children home.
—Annie R. Smith (TG Vol. 2 No. 28)
Ashamed of Jesus!
Jesus, and shall it ever be,
A mortal man ashamed of Thee?
Ashamed of Thee, whom angels praise,
Whose glories shine through endless days?
Ashamed of Jesus sooner far
Let evening blush to own a star;
He sheds the beams of light divine
O’er this benighted soul of mine.
Ashamed of Jesus! Just as soon
Let midnight be ashamed of noon;
’Twas midnight with my soul till He,
Bright Morning Star, bade darkness flee.
Ashamed of Jesus! That dear Friend
On whom my hopes of heaven depend!
No; when I blush, be this my shame
That I no more revere His name.
Ashamed of Jesus! yes, I may
When I’ve no guilt to wash away;
No tear to wipe, no good to crave,
No fears to quell, no soul to save.
Till then — nor is my boasting vain —
Till then I boast a Savior slain;
And O, may this my glory be,
That Christ is not ashamed of me!
—Joseph Grigg (TG Vol. 2 No. 10)
It Shall Be Well With You
Be tranquil, O my Soul,
Be quiet every fear!
Thy Father hath supreme control,
And He is ever near.
A Father’s chastening hand
Is leading these along:
Nor distant is the promised land,
Where swells the immortal song.
Never of the lot complain,
What ever may befall,
Sickness or Sorrow, care or pain,
’Tis well appointed all.
A Father’s chastening hand
Is leading these along:
Nor distant is the promised land,
Where swells the immortal song.
O, then, my soul, be still!
Await heaven’s high decree;
Seek but do thy Father’s will,
It shall be well with thee.
A Father’s chastening hand
Is leading these along:
Nor distant is the promised land,
Where swells the immortal song.
—Thomas Hastings (TG Vol. 2 No. 4)
Untitled
How blest are they who always keep
The pure and perfect way;
Who never from the sacred paths
Of God’s commandments stray!
How blest, who to his righteous laws
Have still obedient been,
And have with fervent, humble zeal
His favor sought to win!
Thou strictly hast enjoyed us, Lord,
To learn Thy sacred will’
And all our diligence employ
Thy statutes to fulfill.
How blest, who to his righteous laws
Have still obedient been,
And have with fervent, humble zeal
His favor sought to win!
O then that Thy most holy will
Might o’er my ways preside;
And I the course of all my life
By Thy direction guide!
How blest, who to his righteous laws
Have still obedient been,
And have with fervent, humble zeal
His favor sought to win!
— Ano. (TG Vol. 2 No. 17)