Up From The Grave He Arose

1. Low in the grave he lay, Jesus my Savior,
waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!

Refrain:
Up from the grave he arose;
with a mighty triumph o'er his foes;
he arose a victor from the dark domain,
and he lives forever, with his saints to reign.
He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!

2. Vainly they watch his bed, Jesus my Savior,
vainly they seal the dead, Jesus my Lord!
(Refrain)

3. Death cannot keep its prey, Jesus my Savior;
he tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord!
(Refrain)
http://www.hymnsite.com/lyrics/umh322.sht

Come Ye Disconsolate

This ver­sion of the lyr­ics, found in mo­dern hymn­als, in­cor­po­rates chang­es by Thom­as Hast­ings in his Spir­it­u­al Songs for So­cial Wor­ship, 1831. The orig­in­al lyr­ics are at the bot­tom of this page.

Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish,
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”

Here see the Bread of Life, see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove.

---

Moore’s original lyrics:

Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish,
Come, at the shrine of God fervently kneel;
Here bring your wounded hearts; here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope when all others die, fadeless and pure;
Here speaks the Comforter, in God’s name saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”

Come, ask the infidel what boon he brings us,
What charm for aching hearts he can reveal,
Sweet is that heavenly promise Hope sings us—
“Earth has no sorrow that God cannot heal.”

Find more about this hymn here:

http://cyberhymnal.org/htm/c/y/cydiscon.htm

My Shepherd Will Supply My Need

My Shepherd will supply my need:
Jehovah is His Name;
In pastures fresh He makes me feed,
Beside the living stream.
He brings my wandering spirit back
When I forsake His ways,
And leads me, for His mercy's sake,
In paths of truth and grace.

 When through the shades of death I walk,
your presence is my stay;
one word of your supporting breath
drives all my fears away.
Your hand in sight of all my foes,
does still my table spread;
my cup with Blessings overflows,
your oil anoints my head.

The sure provisions of my God
Attend me all my days;
O may your house be my abode,
And all my work be praise.
There would I find a settled rest,
While others go and come;
No more a stranger, nor a guest,
But like a child at home.

~ Isaac Watts

More info can be found here.

Be Glad Of Heart

Be glad of heart, all you who seek
To lodge where welcome waits;
Our Shepherd owns a rock-walled fold
And wide has flung the gates.

Christ, sent to gather in the flock
To dwell in God's embrace,
Walks by our side toward blessedness
Where love prepares our place.

With anxious care God scans the road
For signs of our approach
And runs to meet us, sinners all,
With blessing, not reproach.

So let us sing as on we go
Until our travels cease
Where God, our shelter at the last,
Enfolds us deep in peace.

~ Genevieve Glenn, OSB

source: Magnificat, Vol. 14, No. 13

It Is Well With My Soul

Words: Ho­ra­tio G. Spaf­ford, 1873. Music: Ville du Havre, Phil­ip P. Bliss, 1876.  The tune is named af­ter the ship on which Spaf­ford’s child­ren perished, the S.S. Ville de Havre. Iron­ic­al­ly, Bliss him­self died in a tra­gic train wreck short­ly af­ter writ­ing this mu­sic.

This hymn was writ­ten af­ter two ma­jor trau­mas in Spaf­ford’s life. The first was the great Chi­ca­go Fire of Oc­to­ber 1871, which ru­ined him fi­nan­cial­ly (he had been a weal­thy bus­i­ness­man). Short­ly af­ter, while cross­ing the At­lan­tic, all four of Spaf­ford’s daugh­ters died in a col­li­sion with an­o­ther ship. Spaf­ford’s wife Anna sur­vived and sent him the now fa­mous tel­e­gram, “Saved alone.” Sev­er­al weeks lat­er, as Spaf­ford’s own ship passed near the spot where his daugh­ters died, the Ho­ly Spir­it in­spired these words. They speak to the eter­nal hope that all be­liev­ers have, no mat­ter what pain and grief be­fall them on earth.

---

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain

It is well, with my soul,

It is well, with my soul,
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

Refrain

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

Refrain

For me, be it Christ, be it Christ hence to live:
If Jordan above me shall roll,
No pang shall be mine, for in death as in life
Thou wilt whisper Thy peace to my soul.

Refrain

But, Lord, ‘tis for Thee, for Thy coming we wait,
The sky, not the grave, is our goal;
Oh trump of the angel! Oh voice of the Lord!
Blessèd hope, blessèd rest of my soul!

Refrain

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

Refrain

The above info was found on the following site.  (I highly recommend this site for hymn texts and info regarding their inspiration.)

http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/i/t/i/itiswell.htm

Jerusalem My Happy Home

Jerusalem, my happy home,
When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end?
Thy joys when shall I see?

O happy harbor of the saints,
O sweet and pleasant soil!
In thee no sorrow may be found,
No grief, no care, no toil.

Jerusalem, my happy home,
Would God I were in thee!
Would God my woes were at an end!
Thy joys that I might see!

~ Joseph Bromehead (1747-1826)

What Wondrous Love Is This

What wondrous love is this,
O my soul, O my soul?
What wondrous love is this, O my soul?
That caused the Lord of bliss
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul, for my soul;
To bear the dreadful curse for my soul?

To God and to the Lamb
I will sing, I will sing;
To God and to the Lamb, I will sing;
To God and to the Lamb
Who is the great I Am,
While millions join the theme, I will sing, I will sing,
While millions join the theme, I will sing.

And when from death I'm free,
I'll sing on, I'll sing on;
And when from death I'm free, I'll sing on;
And when from death I'm free,
I'll sing and joyful be,
And through eternity I'll sing on, I'll sing on!
And through eternity I'll sing on.

Alexander Means
Nineteenth century