Thursday, June 9, 2016

Seasonal Hymns: Holy Days 381-393

Our Lady of Walsingham
Mary of Walsingham, Mother of Jesus – unknown

Mary of Walsingham, Mother of Jesus,
Pray for thy Dowry, the land that we love;
England has need of thy powerful protection,
Pour on thy children thy gifts from above.

Thou who didst summon thy servant Richeldis,
Bidding her build to thine honour a Shine,
Help us to follow in thy blessed footsteps,
Framing our lives on the pattern divine.

Countless the pilgrims whose footsteps have echoed
Down through the years along Walsingham's way;
Countless the prayers that thy children have offered;
Mary of Walsingham, hear us, we pray.

Many long years saw thy image neglected,
Only a few sought the help of thy prayers:
Walsingham's Shrine now again in its beauty
Welcomes each pilgrim who thither repairs.

Pray for us then, blessed Mary, our Mother,
Pray for thy children who kneel in thy Shrine,
Pray that thy Son upon England thy Dowry
Pour down His favours and blessings divine.

So shall we praise thee with ceaseless thanksgiving
So shall we sing of thy love and thy power,
So shall we feel thy protection and comfort ,                                              
All through our lives and in death's solemn hour.

St. Luke
What thanks and praise to thee we owe – W Maclagan

What thanks and praise to Thee we owe,
O Priest and Sacrifice divine,
For Thy dear saint thro' whom we know
So many a gracious word of Thine;

Whom Thou didst choose to tell the tale
Of all Thy manhood's toils and tears,
And for a moment lift the veil
That hides Thy boyhood's spotless years.

And still the Church through all her days
Uplifts the strains that never cease,
The blessèd Virgin's hymn of praise,
The aged Simeon's words of peace.

O happy saint! whose sacred page,
So rich in words of truth and love,
Pours on the Church from age to age
This healing unction from above;

The witness of the Saviour's life,
The great apostle's chosen friend
Through weary years of toil and strife,
And still found faithful to the end.

So grant us, Lord, like him to live,
Beloved by man, approved by Thee,
Till Thou at last the summons give,
And we, with him, Thy face shall see.

Ss. Simon and Jude

Seest thou, how tearful and alone – J Keble

Seest thou, how tearful and alone,
And drooping like a wounded dove,
The Cross in sight, but Jesus gone,
The widow'd Church is fain to rove?

Who is at hand that loves the Lord?
Make haste, and take her home, and bring
Thine household choir, in true accord
Their soothing hymns for her to sing.

Soft on her fluttering heart shall breathe
The fragrance of that genial isle,
There she may weave her funeral wreath,
And to her own sad music smile.

The Spirit of the dying Son
Is there, and fills the holy place
With records sweet of duties done,
Of pardon'd foes, and cherish'd grace.

And as of old by two and two
His herald saints the Saviour sent
To soften hearts like morning dew,
Where he to shine in mercy meant;

So evermore He deems His name
Best honour'd and his way prepar'd,
When watching by his altar-flame
He sees His servants duly pair'd.

He loves when age and youth are met,
Fervent old age and youth serene,
Their high and low in concord set
For sacred song, Joy's golden mean.

He loves when some clear soaring mind
Is drawn by mutual piety
To simple souls and unrefin'd,
Who in life's shadiest covert lie.

Or if perchance a sadden'd heart
That once was gay and felt the spring,
Cons slowly o'er its alter'd part,
In sorrow and remorse to sing,

Thy gracious care will send that way
Some spirit full of glee, yet taught
To bear the sight of dull decay,
And nurse it with all-pitying thought;

Cheerful as soaring lark, and mild
As evening blackbird's dull-toned lay,
When the relenting sun has smil'd
Bright through a whole December day.

These are the tones to brace and cheer
The lonely watcher of the fold,
When nights are dark, and foeman near,
When visions fade and hearts grow cold.

How timely then a comrade's song
Comes floating on the mountain air,
And bids thee yet be bold and strong --
Fancy may die, but Faith is there.

All Saints Day
For thy dear saints, O Lord – R Mant

For all thy saints, O Lord,
our grateful hymn receive,
who followed thee, obeyed, adored,
and strove in thee to live.

For all thy saints, O Lord,
accept our thankful cry,
who counted thee their great reward,
who strove in thee to die.

Thine earthly members fit
to join thy saints above,
in one communion ever knit,
one fellowship of love.

Jesus, thy name we bless,
and humbly pray that we
may follow them in holiness
and live and die in thee.

All might, all praise, be thine,
Father, co-equal Son,
and Spirit, bond of love divine,
while endless ages run.

Hark, the sound of holy voices – C Wordsworth

Hark! the sound of holy voices,
chanting at the crystal sea,
Alleluia, alleluia,
alleluia! Lord, to thee!
Multitude which none can number
like the stars in glory stands,
clothed in white apparel, holding
palms of victory in their hands.

Patriarch, and holy prophet,
who prepared the way for Christ,
king, apostle, saint, confessor,
martyr and evangelist,
saintly maiden, godly matron,
widows who have watched to prayer,
joined in holy concert, singing
to the Lord of all, are there.

They have come from tribulation,
and have washed their robes in blood,
washed them in the blood of Jesus;
tried they were, and firm they stood;
mocked, imprisoned, stoned, tormented,
sawn asunder, slain with sword;
they have conquered death and Satan
by the might of Christ the Lord.

Marching with thy cross, their banner,
they have triumphed following
thee, the Captain of salvation,
thee, their Savior and their King.
Gladly, Lord, with thee they suffered;
gladly, Lord, with thee they died;
and by death to life immortal
they were born and glorified.

Now they reign in heavenly glory,
now they walk in golden light,
now they drink, as from a river,
holy bliss and infinite;
love and peace they taste for ever,
and all truth and knowledge see
in the beatific vision
of the blessèd Trinity.

God of God, the One begotten,
Light of light, Emmanuel,
in whose body joined together
all the saints forever dwell;
pour upon us of thy fullness
that we may for evermore
God the Father, God the Son, and
God the Holy Ghost adore.

For all the saints who from their labors rest – W How

For all the saints, who from their labors rest,
who thee by faith before the world confessed,
thy Name, O Jesus, be forever blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

Thou wast their Rock, their Fortress and their Might;
thou, Lord, their Captain in the well fought fight;
thou, in the darkness drear, their one true Light.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

For the apostles' glorious company,
who bearing forth the cross o'er land and sea,
shook all the mighty world, we sing to Thee:
Alleluia, Alleluia!

For the Evangelists, by whose blest word,
like fourfold streams, the garden of the Lord,
is fair and fruitful, be thy Name adored.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

For Martyrs, who with rapture kindled eye,
saw the bright crown descending from the sky,
and seeing, grasped it, thee we glorify.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O may thy soldiers, faithful, true, and bold,
fight as the saints who nobly fought of old,
and win, with them the victor's crown of gold.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

O blest communion, fellowship divine!
we feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
all are one in thee, for all are thine.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

And when the strife is fierce, the warfare long,
steals on the ear the distant triumph song,
and hearts are brave, again, and arms are strong.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

The golden evening brightens in the west;
soon, soon to faithful warriors comes their rest;
sweet is the calm of paradise the blessed.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

But lo! there breaks a yet more glorious day;
the saints triumphant rise in bright array;
the King of glory passes on his way.
Alleluia, Alleluia!

From earth's wide bounds, from ocean's farthest coast,
through gates of pearl streams in the countless host,
and singing to Father, Son and Holy Ghost:
Alleluia, Alleluia!

How bright these glorious spirits shine – I Watts

How bright these glorious spirits shine!
Whence all their white array?
How came they to the blissful seats
of everlasting day?

Lo! these are they from sufferings great
who came to realms of light,
and in the blood of Christ have washed
those robes which shine so bright.

Now with triumphal palms they stand
before the throne on high,
and serve the God they love amidst
the glories of the sky.

His presence fills each heart with joy,
tunes every mouth to sing:
by day, by night, the sacred courts
with glad hosannas ring.

Hunger and thirst are felt no more,
nor suns with scorching ray;
God is their sun, whose cheering beams
diffuse eternal day.

The Lamb who dwells amidst the throne
shall oer them still preside,
feed them with nourishment divine,
and all their footsteps guide.

Midst pastures green he'll lead his flock
where living streams appear;
and God the Lord from every eye
shall wipe off every tear.

To Father, Son and Holy Ghost,
the God whom we adore,
be glory, as it was, is now,
and shall be evermore.

The saints of God! their conflict past – W MacLagan

The saints of God! their conflict past,
and life's long battle won at last,
no more they need the shield or sword,
they cast them down before their Lord:
O happy saints! forever blest,
at Jesus feet' how safe your rest!

The saints of God! their wanderings done,
no more their weary course they run,
no more they faint, no more they fall,
no foes oppress, no fears appall:
O happy saints! forever blest,
in that dear home how sweet your rest!

The saints of God! life's voyage o'er,
safe landed on that blissful shore,
no stormy tempests now they dread,
no roaring billows lift their head:
O happy saints! forever blest,
in that calm haven of your rest!

The saints of God their vigil keep,
while yet their mortal bodies sleep,
till from the dust they too shall rise
and soar triumphant to the skies:
O happy saints! rejoice and sing:
he quickly comes, your Lord and King!

O God of saints! to thee we cry;
O Savior! plead for us on high;
O Holy Ghost! our Guide and Friend,
grant us thy grace till life shall end;
that with all the saints our rest may be
in that bright paradise with thee!

Joy and triumph everlasting – A of St Victor / R Bridges trans

Joy and triumph everlasting
hath the heav'nly Church on high;
for that pure immortal gladness
all our feast days mourn and sigh:
yet in death's dark desert wild
doth the mother aid her child;
guards celestial thence attend us,
stand in combat to defend us.

Here the world's perpetual warfare
holds from heaven the soul apart;
legioned foes in shadowy terror
vex the Sabbath of the heart.
O how happy that estate
where delight doth not abate!
for that home the spirit yearneth,
where none languisheth nor mourneth.

There the body hath no torment,
there the mind is free from care,
there is every voice rejoicing,
every heart is loving there.
Angels in that city dwell;
them their King delighteth well:
still they joy and weary never,
more and more desiring ever.

There the seers and fathers holy,
there the prophets glorified,
all their doubts and darkness ended,
in the Light of Light abide.
There the saints, whose memories old
we in faithful hymns uphold,
have forgot their bitter story
in the joy of Jesus' glory.

Who are these like stars appearing – H Schenk / F Cox

Who are these like stars appearing,
these, before God's throne who stand?
Each a golden crown is wearing;
who are all this glorious band?
Alleluia! Hark, they sing,
praising loud their heavenly King.

Who are these of dazzling brightness,
clothed in God's own righteousness?
These, whose robes of purest whiteness,
shall their luster still possess,
still untouched by time's rude hand?
Whence came all this glorious band?

These are they who have contended
for their Savior's honor long,
wrestling on till life was ended,
following not the sinful throng;
these who well the fight sustained,
triumph through the Lamb have gained.

These are they whose hearts were riven,
sore with woe and anguish tried,
who in prayer full oft have striven
with the God they glorified;
now, their painful conflict o'er,
God has bid them weep no more.

These, the Almighty contemplating,
did as priests before him stand,
soul and body always waiting
day and night at his command:
now in God's most holy place
blest they stand before his face.

I sing a song of the saints of God – L Scot

Christ the King
Praise, my soul, the King of heaven – H Lyte
Praise, my soul, the King of heaven;
to his feet thy tribute bring;
ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
evermore his praises sing:
Alleluia, alleluia!
Praise the everlasting King.

Praise him for his grace and favor
to our fathers in distress;
praise him still the same for ever,
slow to chide and swift to bless:
Alleluia, alleluia!
Glorious in his faithfulness.

Father-like, he tends and spares us;
well our feeble frame he knows;
in his hand he gently bears us,
rescues us from all our foes.
Alleluia, alleluia!
Widely yet his mercy flows.

Angels, help us to adore him;
ye behold him face to face;
sun and moon, bow down before him,
dwellers all in time and space.
Alleluia, alleluia!
Praise with us the God of grace.

St. Andrew
Jesus calls us; o’er the tumult – C Alexander

Jesus calls us; o’er the tumult
of our life’s wild, restless sea,
day by day his clear voice soundeth,
saying, “Christian, follow me”;

as, of old, Saint Andrew heard it
by the Galilean lake,
turned from home and toil and kindred,
leaving all for his dear sake.

Jesus calls us from the worship
of the vain world’s golden store;
from each idol that would keep us,
saying, “Christian, love me more.”

In our joys and in our sorrows,
days of toil and hours of ease,
still he calls, in cares and pleasures,
“Christian, love me more than these.”

Jesus calls us!  By thy mercies,
Savior, may we hear thy call,
give our hearts to thine obedience,
serve and love thee best of all.

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