 John Wyeth (1770-1858) | Words: Robert Robinson, 1758; appeared in his A Collection of Hymns Used by the Church of Christ in Angel Alley, Bishopgate, 1759. Music: Nettleton, Wyeth’s Repository of Sacred Music, Part Second, by John Wyeth, 1813 (MIDI, score). |  Robert Robinson (1735-1790) |
A D A
Come Thou Fount of every blessing,
D G D A7 D
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
A Bm Em
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Bm Em F#m A7 D
Call for songs of loudest praise.
A D G D
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
A D F#m G D
Sung by flaming tongues above;
A Bm Em
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
D G D A7 D
Mount of Thy redeeming love.
Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,
Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit,
Here Thy praises I’ll begin;
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.
Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;
How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.
O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.
O that day when freed from sinning,
I shall see Thy lovely face;
Clothed then in blood washed linen
How I’ll sing Thy sovereign grace;
Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,
Take my ransomed soul away;
Send thine angels now to carry
Me to realms of endless day.
Tune: Werde munter
Jesus, Name all names above,
Jesus, best and dearest;
Jesus, Fount of perfect love,
holiest, tenderest, nearest:
Jesus, Source of grace completest;
Jesus purest, Jesus sweetest;
Jesus, Well of power divine,
make me, keep me, seal me thine!
Woe that I have turned aside
after fleshly pleasure!
Woe that I have never tried
for the heavenly treasure!
Treasure, safe in homes supernal,
incorruptible, eternal;
treasure no less price hath won
than the passion of the Son!
Jesus, crowned with thorns for me,
scourged for my transgression!
Witnessing, through agony,
that thy good confession!
Jesus, clad in purple raiment,
for my evils making payment:
let not all thy woe and pain,
let not Calvary be in vain!
Jesus, open me the gate
that of old he entered
who, in that most low estate,
wholly on thee ventured;
thou, whose wounds are ever pleading
and thy passion interceding,
from my misery let me rise
to a home in paradise!
Labels: 9th c., Neale, theoctistus
¶ Tuesday, February 13, 2007 0 comments