The Seven Great Hymns of the Mediaeval Church

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Anson D.F. Randolph, 1866 - 122 pages
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Page 48 - That day of wrath, .that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay ? How shall he meet that dreadful day ? When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, The flaming heavens together roll ; When louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! Oh ! on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! HUSH'D is the harp — the Minstrel...
Page 88 - What shall I, frail man, be pleading ? Who for me be interceding, When the just are mercy needing ? 8 King of majesty tremendous, Who dost free salvation send us, Fount of Pity, then befriend us.
Page 15 - There grief is turned to pleasure, Such pleasure, as below No human voice can utter, No human heart can know. And now we fight the battle, But then shall wear the crown Of full and everlasting And passionless renown.
Page 21 - Thou hast no shore, fair ocean ! Thou hast no time, bright day ! Dear fountain of refreshment To pilgrims far away ! Upon the Rock of Ages They raise Thy holy tower; Thine is the victor's laurel, And Thine the golden dower.
Page 19 - A better country, that is, an heavenly." TITOR thee, O dear, dear country, Mine eyes their vigils keep ; For very love, beholding Thy happy name, they weep. The mention of thy glory Is unction to the breast, And medicine in sickness, And love, and life, and rest.
Page 11 - Strive, man, to win that glory; Toil, man, to gain that light; Send hope before to grasp it, Till hope be lost in sight.
Page 7 - The world is very evil, The times are waxing late; Be sober and keep vigil, The Judge is at the gate, — The Judge that comes in mercy, The Judge that comes with might, To terminate the evil, To diadem the right.
Page 23 - The song of them that feast ; And they, who with their Leader Have conquered in the fight, For ever and for ever Are clad in robes of white.
Page 117 - CREATOR spirit, by whose aid The world's foundations first were laid, Come visit every pious mind ; Come pour thy joys on human kind ; From sin and sorrow set us free, And make thy temples worthy thee. O source of uncreated light, The Father's promised Paraclete ! Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire, Our hearts with heavenly love inspire ; Come, and thy sacred unction bring To sanctify us, while we sing. Plenteous of grace, descend from high, Rich in thy sevenfold energy!
Page 21 - Thou feel'st in mystic rapture, O Bride that know'st no guile, The Prince's sweetest kisses, The Prince's loveliest smile : Unfading lilies, bracelets Of living pearl thine own : The Lamb is ever near thee, The Bridegroom thine alone : The Crown is He to guerdon, The Buckler to protect, And He Himself the Mansion, And He the Architect.

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