Music in S. S. Chant and Tune Book, p. 53; Sabbath Songs, p. 28.
WAS a wandering sheep,
I did not love the fold;
I did not love my Shepherd's voice,
I would not be controlled.
I was a wayward child,
I did not love my home;
I did not love my Father's voice,
I loved afar to roam.
2 The Shepherd sought his sheep,
The Father sought his child,
And followed me o'er vale and hill,
O'er deserts waste and wild.
He found me nigh to death,
Famished, and faint, and lone;
He bound me with the bands of love,
And saved the wandering one.
3 He spoke in tender love,
He raised my drooping head;
He gently closed my bleeding wounds,
My fainting soul He fed.
He washed my filth away,
He made me clean and fair;
He brought me to my home in peace,
The long-sought wanderer.
4 Jesus my Shepherd is;
"Twas He that loved my soul,
"Twas He that washed me in his blood,
"Twas He that made me whole.
'Twas He that sought the lost,
That found the wandering sheep;
'Twas He that brought me to the fold,
'Tis He that still doth keep.
5 I was a wandering sheep,
I would not be controlled;
But now I love my Shepherd's voice,
I love, I love the fold!
I was a wayward child;
I once preferred to roam,
But now I love my Father's voice;
I love, I love his home!
Music in Silver Spray, p. 67.
ELL me the old, old story
Of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and his glory,
Of Jesus and his love.
Tell me the story simply
As to a little child,
For I am weak and weary,
And helpless and defiled.
2 Tell me the story slowly,
That I may take it in, -
That wonderful redemption,
God's remedy for sin.
Tell me the story often,
For I forget so soon;
The "early dew" of morning
Has passed away at noon.
3 Tell me the story softly,
With earnest tones and grave,
Remember! I'm the sinner,
Whom Jesus came to save.
Tell me that story always,
If you would really be
In any time of trouble
A comforter to me.
4 Tell me the old, old story,
When you have cause to fear
That this world's empty glory
Is costing me too dear.
Yes, and when that world's glory
Is dawning on my soul,
Tell me the old, old story,
"Christ Jesus makes thee whole."
Tell me the old, old story,
Tell me the old, old story,
Tell me the old, old story,
Of Jesus and his love.
Music, "Vesper Hymn," S. S. Chant and Tune Book, p. 70.
ARK, a voice from heaven is stealing;
Listen, children, to its tone;
For its words of tender feeling,
You may claim them for your own.
"Come to Jesus,
Little children, come to me!"
2 Often have I heard the story
Of the Saviour's wondrous love,
How He left his throne of glory -
How He calls you from above:
"Come to Jesus,
Little children, come to me!"
3 He is waiting to receive you;
Come to Him without delay,
He will every blessing give you,
For you've often heard Him say,
"Come to Jesus,
Little children, come to me!
4 Lord, we come, our sins confessing;
Grant us all thy pardoning grace,
Give us here a Father's blessing
And in heaven to see thy face!
Blessed Jesus,
Teach us how to come to Thee!
Music in Parish Hymnal, p. 111; Sabbath Songs, p. 45.
LAY my sins on Jesus,
The spotless Lamb of God;
He bears them all, and frees us
From the accursed load.
2 I bring my guilt to Jesus,
To wash my crimson stains
White in his blood most precious,
Till not a spot remains.
3 I lay my wants on Jesus,
All fullness dwells in Him;
He healeth my diseases,
He doth my soul redeem.
4 I lay my griefs on Jesus,
My burdens and my cares;
He from them all releases,
He all my sorrows shares.
5 I long to be like Jesus,
Meek, loving, lowly, mild;
I long to be like Jesus,
The Father's holy child.
6 I long to be with Jesus,
Amid the heavenly throng,
To sing with saints his praises,
And learn the angels' song.
THE CHURCH.
III. 3. 8s & 7s.
Music in Parish Hymnal, p. 131; Hollister's Service and Tune Book, p. 99
LORIOUS things of thee are spoken,
GZion, city of our God;
He whose word cannot be broken,
Formed thee for his own abode :
On the Rock of Ages founded,
What can shake thy sure repose?
With salvation's walls surrounded,
Thou mayest smile at all thy foes.
2 See the streams of living waters,
Springing from eternal love,
Well supply thy sons and daughters,
And all fear of want remove.
Who can faint while such a river
Ever flows their thirst t' assuage?
Grace which, like the Lord, the Giver,
Never fails from age to age.
Music in S. S. Chant and Tune Book, p. 57; Oriola, p. 179.
Beautiful city that I love,
EAUTIFUL Zion, built above,
Beautiful gates of pearly white,
Beautiful temple, God its light.
He who was slain on Calvary,
Opens those pearly gates to me.
2 Beautiful heaven, where all is light;
Beautiful angels, clothed in white;
Beautiful strains that never tire;
Beautiful harps through all the choir.
There shall I join the chorus sweet,
Worshipping at the Saviour's feet.
3 Beautiful crowns on every brow,
Beautiful palms the conquerors' show;
Beautiful robes the ransomed wear,
Beautiful all who enter there.
Thither I press with eager feet;
There shall my rest be long and sweet.
4 Beautiful throne for Christ our King,
Beautiful songs the angels sing;
Beautiful rest - all wanderings cease;
Beautiful home of perfect peace.
There shall my eyes the Saviour see;
Haste to his heavenly home with me.
Music in Parish Hymnal, p. 190, or p. 94, or p. 131; Sabbath Songs, p. 55
W How King Solomon of old
E have lingered o'er the story,
Built the temple, in its glory,
Rich with "costly stones" and gold,
Till we almost see it gleaming
Like a crown on Sion's hill,
Like a crown of joy celestial,
In its radiance calm and still.
2 With no sound of axe or hammer
Grew that temple strong and great,
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