We worship thee, we bless thee,
To thee alone we sing;
We praise thee and confess thee,
Our gracious Lord and King.

3 In thee all fulness dwelleth,

All grace and power divine;
The glory that excelleth,
O Son of God, is thine;

We worship thee, we bless thee,
To thee alone we sing;

We praise thee and confess thee,
Our glorious Lord and King.

4 O grant the consummation Of this our song above,

In endless adoration

And everlasting love;

Then shall we praise and bless thee,
Where perfect praises ring,
And ever more confess thee
Our Saviour and our King.

Frances Ridley Havergal. 1870.

95

" A name above every name.”

1 THERE is a name I love to hear;
I love to speak its worth;
It sounds like music in mine ear,
The sweetest name on earth.

2 It tells of One whose loving heart
Can feel my deepest woe,
Who in my sorrow bears a part
That none can bear below.

C.M.

96

1

3 Jesus, the name I love so well,
The name I love to hear:

No saint on earth its worth can tell,
No heart conceive how dear.

4 This name shall shed its fragrance still
Along this thorny road,

Shall sweetly smooth the rugged hill,
That leads me up to God.

Frederick Whitfield. 1855,

"Summi Parentis Filio.”

To Christ, the Prince of Peace,
And Son of God most high,

The Father of the world to come,

Sing we with holy joy.

The wound of love he bore;

That love, wherewith he still inflames

The hearts that him adore.

S.M.

Roman Breviary.

Tr. Edward Caswall. 1849.

97

"Gelobt sey Jesus Christ."

1 WHEN morning gilds the skies,
My heart awaking cries,

May Jesus Christ be praised.

2 Alike at work and prayer
To Jesus I repair;

May Jesus Christ be praised.

3 To thee, my God above,
I cry with glowing love,

May Jesus Christ be praised.

4 This song of sacred joy,
It never seems to cloy,

May Jesus Christ be praised.

5 When sleep her balm denies,
My silent spirit sighs,

May Jesus Christ be praised.

6 When evil thoughts molest,
With this I shield my breast,

May Jesus Christ be praised.

7 Does sadness fill my mind?
A solace here I find,

May Jesus Christ be praised.

8 The night becomes as day,
When from the heart we say,
May Jesus Christ be praised.

9 In heaven's eternal bliss
The loveliest strain is this,
May Jesus Christ be praised.

66,6.

98

10 Let earth's wide circle round
In joyful notes resound,

May Jesus Christ be praised.

Tr. Edward Caswall. 1858.

65,65,11 11. Ir.

"Hosanna to Jesus!"

1 YE ransomed of Jesus,

Come sing of his love,

He stooped down to raise us

To mansions above:

Jehovah on him our transgressions did lay,
And he bore the huge burden, and bore it away.

2 Sin's bondage was bitter,
And heavy its chain;
But Christ took the fetter,

And snapped it in twain;

The strong one was bound and the captive set free, When he fell back in triumph and died on the tree.

3 To him what a treasure
Of blessing we owe;

For there thrills not a pleasure

But pierced him with woe:

Our blessings on earth, and our glory above,
Shot many a pang through that bosom of love.

4 Hosanna to Jesus!

He bore all our pains;

The ransom that frees us

Was pressed from his veins :

The blood for our cleansing, the balm for our smart, Were great drops of agony wrung from his heart.

5 Each drop in the garden,
Each stream on the tree,
Proclaims a full pardon,

O sinner, for thee;

Not vengeance, like that which once cried from the ground,

But an accent of love, a sweet jubilee sound.

6 With love and with pity
Christ's heart overflows;
He wept o'er the city;
He prayed for his foes

He could not exclaim, 'It is finished,' and die,
Till, Father, forgive them,' was wafted on high.

7 Then praise be to Jesus,
Each day let it swell;

He died to release us

From sin and from hell:

May it spread through creation, above and around, Till all her vast temple re-echo the sound.

99

John Guthrie. 1845.

77,77,77,77.

"Hear our solemn litany."

1 SAVIOUR, when in dust to thee
Low we bow the adoring knee;
When repentant, to the skies
Scarce we lift our weeping eyes;
O by all thy pains and woe
Suffered once for man below,
Bending from thy throne on high,
Hear our solemn litany.

2 By thy helpless infant years,
By thy life of want and tears,
By thy days of sore distress
In the savage wilderness,