Sacred Harp

Sacred Harp 178: ‘Africa’

Now shall my inward joys arise,
And burst into a song;
Almighty love inspires my heart,
And pleasure tunes my tongue.

God, on His thirsty Zion’s hill,
Some mercy drops has thrown;
And solemn oaths have bound His love
To show’r salvation down.

Why do we then indulge our fears,
Suspicions and complaints?
Is He a God, and shall His grace
Grow weary of His saints?

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Sacred Harp 283b: ‘Am I A Soldier? (Ortonville)’

Am I a soldier of the cross,
A foll’wer of the Lamb?
And shall I fear to own His cause,
Or blush to speak His name?

Must I be carried to the skies
On flow’ry beds of ease?
While others fought to win the prize,
And sailed through bloody seas!

Are there no foes for me to face?
Must I not stem the flood?
Is this vile world a friend to grace,
To help me on to God?

Sure I must fight, if I would reign;
Increase my courage, Lord!
I’ll bear the toil, endure the pain,
Supported by Thy word.

Thy saints, in all this glorious war,
Shall conquer, though they die;
They see the triumph from afar
And seize it with their eye.

When that illustrious day shall rise,
And all Thine armies shine,
In robes of vict’ry through the skies,
The glory shall be Thine.

Sacred Harp 401: ‘Cuba’

Go, preachers, and tell it to the world,
Poor mourners found a home at last.

Through free grace and a dying Lamb,
Poor mourners found a home at last.

Go, fathers, and tell it to the world,
Poor mourners found a home at last.

Go, mothers, and tell it to the world,
Poor mourners found a home at last.

The lady and I went to the FSGW’s New Year’s Day sing in Alexandria this week, which was small but lots of fun.

Sacred Harp 499: ‘At Rest’

The world can never give
The bliss for which we sigh;
’Tis not the whole of life to live,
Nor all of death to die.

Beyond this vale of tears
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years,
An endless life of love.

Farewell, dear friends, farewell,
For just a little while;
We’ll meet and sing on heaven’s shore,
Where parting comes no more.

Sacred Harp 62: ‘Parting Hand’

Happy Fourth Sunday of Advent! Tonight is the longest night ever.

My Christian friends, in bonds of love,
Whose hearts in sweetest union join,
Your friendship’s like a drawing band,
Yet we must take the parting hand.
Your company’s sweet, your union dear,
Your words delightful to my ear;
Yet when I see that we must part
You draw like cords around my heart.

How sweet the hours have passed away
Since we have met to sing and pray;
How loath we are to leave the place
Where Jesus shows His smiling face.
Oh could I stay with friends so kind,
How would it cheer my drooping mind!
But duty makes me understand
That we must take the parting hand.

And since it is God’s holy will,
We must be parted for a while,
In sweet submission, all as one,
We’ll say, our Father’s will be done.
My youthful friends, in Christian ties,
Who seek for mansions in the skies,
Fight on, we’ll gain that happy shore,
Where parting will be known no more.

How oft I’ve seen your flowing tears,
And heard you tell your hopes and fears!
Your hearts with love were seen to flame,
Which makes me hope we’ll meet again.
Ye mourning souls, lift up your eyes
To glorious mansions in the skies;
Oh trust His grace — in Canaan’s land
We’ll no more take the parting hand.

And now, my friends, both old and young,
I hope in Christ you’ll still go on;
And if on earth we meet no more,
Oh may we meet on Canaan’s shore.
I hope you’ll all remember me
If on earth no more I see;
An int’rest in your prayers I crave,
That we meet beyond the grave.

Oh glorious day! Oh blessed hope!
My soul leaps forward at the thought
When, on that happy, happy land,
We’ll no more take the parting hand.
But with our blessed holy Lord
We’ll shout and sing with one accord,
And there we’ll all with Jesus dwell,
So, loving Christians, fare you well.

And a bonus:

Sacred Harp 122: ‘All Is Well’

What’s this that steals upon my frame?
Is it death, is it death?
That soon will quench this mortal flame,
Is it death, is it death?
If this be death, I soon shall be
From ev’ry pain and sorrow free.
I shall the King of glory see,
All is well, all is well.

Weep not, my friends, weep not for me,
All is well, all is well!
My sins forgiv’n and I am free,
All is well, all is well!
There’s not a cloud that doth arise,
To hide my Jesus from my eyes.
I soon shall mount the upper skies,
All is well, all is well.

Tune, tune your harps ye saints on high,
All is well, all is well!
I too will strike my harp with equal joy,
All is well, all is well!
Bright angels are from glory come,
They’re ’round my bed, they’re in my room,
They wait to waft my spirit home,
All is well, all is well.

Hark! Hark! my Lord and Master’s voice,
Calls away, calls away!
I soon shall see — enjoy my happy choice,
Why delay, why delay?
Farewell my friends, adieu, adieu,
I can no longer stay with you,
My glittering crown appears in view,
All is well, all is well!