Lyrics: Robert Bridges, 1899, based on a German hymn by Joachim Neander.

Music: MICHAEL by Herbert Howells, 1935.

Theme: Unless the LORD builds the house,
its builders labor in vain.
Unless the LORD watches over the city,
the watchmen stand guard in vain.
Psalm 127:1.

Robert Bridges: “And if we consider and ask ourselves what sort of music we should wish to hear on entering a church, we should surely, in describing our ideal, say first of all that it must be something different from what is heard elsewhere; that it should be a sacred music, devote to its purpose, a music whose peace should still passion, whose dignity should strengthen our faith, whose unquestion’d beauty should find a home in our hearts, to cheer us in life and in death.”

All my hope on God is founded;
he doth still my trust renew,
me through change and chance he guideth,
only good and only true.
God unknown,
he alone
calls my heart to be his own.

Pride of man and earthly glory,
sword and crown betray his trust;
what with care and toil he buildeth,
tower and temple fall to dust.
But God’s power,
hour by hour,
is my temple and my tower.

God’s great goodness aye endureth,
deep his wisdom, passing thought:
splendor, light and life attend him,
beauty springeth out of naught.
Evermore
from his store
newborn worlds rise and adore.

Daily doth the almighty Giver
bounteous gifts on us bestow;
his desire our soul delighteth,
pleasure leads us where we go.
Love doth stand
at his hand;
joy doth wait on his command.

Still from man to God eternal
sacrifice of praise be done,
high above all praises praising
for the gift of Christ, his Son.
Christ doth call
one and all:
ye who follow shall not fall.

I had never heard of this hymn, but the name Robert Bridges did ring a bell: he was Poet Laureate of England from 1913 to 1930. From Wikipedia:

Bridges made an important contribution to hymnody with the publication in 1899 of his Yattendon Hymnal, which he created specifically for musical reasons. This collection of hymns, although not a financial success, became a bridge between the Victorian hymnody of the last half of the 19th century and the modern hymnody of the early 20th century.
Bridges translated important historic hymns, and many of these were included in Songs of Syon (1904) and the later English Hymnal (1906). Several of Bridges’ translations are still in use today

Here’s a sample of one of his poems, simple, sweet, not terribly profound, certainly not in a “modern” (T.S. Eliot) style, but I rather like it.

Absence

WHEN my love was away,
Full three days were not sped,
I caught my fancy astray
Thinking if she were dead,

And I alone, alone:
It seem’d in my misery
In all the world was none
Ever so lone as I.

I wept; but it did not shame
Nor comfort my heart: away
I rode as I might, and came
To my love at close of day.

The sight of her still’d my fears,
My fairest-hearted love:
And yet in her eyes were tears:
Which when I question’d of,

‘O now thou art come,’ she cried,
”Tis fled: but I thought to-day
I never could here abide,
If thou wert longer away.’

Mr. Bridges considered entering the ministry in the Church of England, but he decided to become a doctor instead. He met poet Gerard Manley Hopkins at Corpus Christi College, and the two poets became lifelong friends and correspondents.

Herbert Howells was an organist and musician, and the particular tune paired here with Bridges’ lyrics was written in honor and memory of Howells’ son Michael who died of polio at the age of nine. Howells was a friend of the famous English composer Ralph Vaughan Williams.

Sources:
Poetry Foundation: Robert Bridges.

Finally, while researching this hymn online, I found this list of “The Top 20 Desert Island Hymns of Anglicans Online Readers.” I must not have had enough Anglican voters because only twelve of the twenty are on my list.

Lyrics: Charles Wesley

Music: Felix Mendelssohn, adapted by William H. Cummings.

Theme: But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights of sons. Galatians 4:4-5.

Patricia at Always Chasing Boys: “Call it doctrinal, call it whatever you want. I would not like to attend a church that does not include this hymn in its Christmas services. I love how this hymn relates directly to one of my favorite Bible verses, Luke 2:10.”

There are three more traditional Christmas hymns on this list, coming in at #66, #51, and #47. Can you guess them?

Also, Mr. Wesley, prolific hymn writer that he was, wrote the lyrics for numbers 60, 57, 31, 30, 15, and 9. A virtual prize to anyone who names the six other Wesley hymns that made the list.

Semicolon Author Celebration of Charles Wesley.

An excellent sermon built on the words and music of Hark, The Herald Angels Sing.

Lyrics: Henry Francis Lyte

Music: HYFRYDOL by Rowland Prichard. Or since the meter is 8.7.8.7D(ouble), it can be sung to any number of alternate tunes.

Theme: And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.
For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: but whosoever will lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it.
Luke 9:23-24

Hannah: ” . . . a heavy commitment into a joyous sacrifice.”

1. Jesus, I my cross have taken, all to leave and follow Thee.
Destitute, despised, forsaken, thou from hence my all shall be.
Perish every fond ambition, all I’ve sought or hoped or known.
Yet how rich is my condition! God and heaven are still my own.

2. Let the world despise and leave me, they have left my Savior, too.
Human hearts and looks deceive me; Thou art not, like them, untrue.
O while Thou dost smile upon me, God of wisdom, love, and might,
Foes may hate and friends disown me, show Thy face and all is bright.

3. Man may trouble and distress me, ’twill but drive me to Thy breast.
Life with trials hard may press me; heaven will bring me sweeter rest.
Oh, ’tis not in grief to harm me while Thy love is left to me;
Oh, ’twere not in joy to charm me, were that joy unmixed with Thee.

4. Go, then, earthly fame and treasure, come disaster, scorn and pain
In Thy service, pain is pleasure; with Thy favor, loss is gain.
I have called Thee Abba Father; I have stayed my heart on Thee.
Storms may howl, and clouds may gather; all must work for good to me.

5. Soul, then know thy full salvation; rise o’er sin and fear and care
Joy to find in every station, something still to do or bear.
Think what Spirit dwells within thee, think what Father’s smiles are thine,
Think that Jesus died to win thee, child of heaven, canst thou repine.

6. Haste thee on from grace to glory, armed by faith, and winged by prayer.
Heaven’s eternal days before thee, God’s own hand shall guide us there.
Soon shall close thy earthly mission, soon shall pass thy pilgrim days.
Hope shall change to glad fruition, faith to sight, and prayer to praise.

Mr. Lyte wrote at least two more well known hymns, but this one reads to me the most “evangelical” of the three, with its emphasis on the cross and self-sacrifice. He was an Anglican clergyman, suffered most of his life from asthma and tuberculosis, and died while trying to convalesce in NIce, France at the age of 54.

The faith expressed in the lyrics is especially poignant when one reads that Lyte was deserted by his father at the age of ten and that his mother died not too long afterwards. The headmaster of his school, a Dr. Burrowes, paid his school fees and effectively adopted the young boy, having him spend holidays with the Burrowes family.

Lyrics: George Matheson, 1882.
Music: ST. MARGARET (PEACE) by Albert Peace, 1884.
Or here for the Christopher Minor tune/version. We sing this one at my church.
Theme: Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. Romans 6:8

David Phelps singing these lyrics to the traditional tune:

1. O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

2. O light that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

3. O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

4. O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

George Matheson was the eldest of eight children. When he was twenty years old, he became blind, but he studied for the ministry anyway and became a pastor in Edinburgh, Scotland. O Love That WIlt Not Let Me Go is the only one of his lyrics that has lasted to this day. He said of its genesis:

“It was the night of my sister’s marriage, and the rest of the family were staying overnight in Glasgow. Something happened to me, which was known only to myself, and which caused me the most severe mental suffering. The hymn was the fruit of that suffering. It was the quickest bit of work I ever did in my life. I had the impression of having it dictated to me by some inward voice rather than of working it out myself. I am quite sure that the whole work was completed in five minutes, and equally sure that it never received at my hands any retouching or correction. I have no natural gift of rhythm. All the other verses I have ever written are manufactured articles; this came like a dayspring from on high.”

For quite a bit more biographical information on Mr. Matheson, aka The Blind Preacher, try this informative blog post.

Lyrics: Darlene Zschech
Music: Darlene Zschech.
Theme:

I’m copying the entire song lyrics here even though I think it’s still under copyright —you can find the lyrics posted in full all over the internet. I’m as fuzzy about copyright law and what constitutes “fair use” as I am about the difference between a hymn, a gospel song, and a worship song. You can read a discussion of the latter issue here at Conjubilant With Song (see the comments).

Anyway, this contemporary worship song/hymn is beautiful, and I remember when I first heard it. Eldest Daughter came home from a retreat and taught me this song that she learned. That was probably ten or more years ago. I’ve enjoyed singing it ever since.

Just in time for the Fourth of July:

Lyrics: Julia Ward Howe, 1861.
Music: JOHN BROWN’S BODY, possibly by John William Steffe.
Theme:

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword;
His truth is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps;
His day is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! His day is marching on.

I have read a fiery Gospel writ in burnished rows of steel;
“As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My grace shall deal”;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel,
Since God is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Since God is marching on.

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet;
Our God is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Our God is marching on.

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free!
While God is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! While God is marching on.

He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave,
He is wisdom to the mighty, He is honor to the brave;
So the world shall be His footstool, and the soul of wrong His slave,
Our God is marching on.
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah!
Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! Our God is marching on.

OK, so the story I remember is that Ms. Howe heard the soldiers singing John Brown’s Body, a popular song about the abolitionist John Brown, and thought the tune ought to have better lyrics. So she sat down and wrote The Battle Hymn of The Republic. That’s the gist of the story as told here at about.com.

Mrs. Howe later wrote:

I went to bed and slept as usual, but awoke the next morning in the gray of the early dawn, and to my astonishment found that the wished-for lines were arranging themselves in my brain. I lay quite still until the last verse had completed itself in my thoughts, then hastily arose, saying to myself, I shall lose this if I don’t write it down immediately. I searched for an old sheet of paper and an old stub of a pen which I had had the night before, and began to scrawl the lines almost without looking, as I learned to do by often scratching down verses in the darkened room when my little children were sleeping. Having completed this, I lay down again and fell asleep, but not before feeling that something of importance had happened to me.”

Here the inimitable Orson Welles tells the story of the origin of The Battle Hymn of the Republic:

The Yankees loved it. The defeated Southerners, not so much. But we (I do consider myself a Southerner, even though I’m from West Texas) have come around in the last hundred years or so. I would estimate Julia Ward Howe’s Battle Hymn is nearly as popular down here in Dixie as it is up North nowadays.

Back in the day before we had an official one, Theodore Roosevelt suggested that The Battle Hymn of the Republic would make a fine national anthem. However, not everyone agreed:

“THE “Battle Hymn of the Republic ” is fine, sonorous, and has an undoubted gait and march to it. What will keep it from any popular acceptance is that its march, however captivating, will not offset the fact that its words mean nothing, convey no impression, and, as a matter of fact, never have been used except as tour de force when somebody ordered or procured them to be sung. ~Frank Carpenter, New York Times, August 8, 1908.

One of my survey participants says this song must be sung by an all-male choir, and another informs me the tune is called CANAAN’S HAPPY LAND. I don’t know, but here’s the male choir:

Sources:
Julia Ward Howe: Beyond the Battle Hymn of the Republic.
The Atlantic Online: Flashbacks.

Lyrics: ELizabeth P. Prentiss.
Music: William H. Doane.
Theme: Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. Mark 12:30.

Mrs. Prentiss: “To love Christ more, is the deepest need, the constant cry of my soul…Out in the woods and on my bed and out driving, when I am happy and busy, and when I am sad and idle, the whisper keeps going up for more love, more love, more love!”

Mrs Prentiss, who struggled with physical illness and tragedy for much of her life, wrote the devotional classic, Stepping Heavenward. I’ve always intended to read her book, but I’ve never done so. Have any of you read it?

Sources: Suite 101: Understanding More Love to Thee O Christ.
Osbeck, Kenneth. 101 More Hymn Stories.