Category: Hymns & Poetry

The Maker of the Universe

Frederick William Pitt (1859-1943) was a pastor in London who was known for his doctrinal writings and poetry/hymns.  This thoughtful hymn, The Maker of the Universe, captures truth pertaining to the hypostatic union, that Christ is fully God and man.

The Maker of the Universe
As man for man was made a curse;
The claims of laws which He had made,
Unto the uttermost He paid.
His holy fingers made the bough
Which grew the thorns that crowned His brow.
The nails that pierced his hands were mined
In secret places He designed;
He made the forests whence there sprung
The tree on which His body hung.
He died upon a cross of wood,
Yet made the hill on which it stood.
The sky that darkened o’er His head
By Him above the earth was spread;
The sun that hid from Him its face
By His decree was poised in space;
The spear that spilled His precious blood
Was tempered in the fires of God.
The grave in which His form was laid
Was hewn in rock His hands had made;
The throne on which He now appears
Was His from everlasting years;
But a new glory crowns His brow,
And every knee to Him shall bow.

F. W. Pitt (1859-1943)

Another Year is Dawning – Frances Ridley Havergal

Frances Ridley Havergal

–

Another year is dawning, Dear Father, let it be,

In working or in waiting another year with Thee;

Another year of progress, another year of praise,

Another year of proving Thy presence all the days. 

–

Another year of mercies, of faithfulness and grace;

Another year of gladness in the shining of Thy face;

Another year of leaning upon Thy loving breast;

Another year of trusting, of quiet, happy rest. 

–

Another year of service, of witness for Thy love;

Another year of training for holier work above.

Another year of dawning, Dear Father, let it be,

On earth, or else in heaven, another year for Thee.

Frances Ridley Havergal

Dr. Steven R. Cook

–

The Cross – by John Newton

John Newton

The Cross

In evil long I took delight, 
Unawed by shame or fear, 
Till a new object struck my sight, 
And stopped my wild career.

I saw One hanging on a tree, 
In agonies and blood; 
He fixed His languid eyes on me, 
    As near His cross I stood.

Sure never till my latest breath, 
Shall I forget that look! 
It seemed to charge me with His death, 
    Though not a word He spoke.

A second look He gave, which said, 
“I freely all forgive; 
This blood is for thy ransom paid; 
    I die that thou mayest live.”

Thus while His death my sin displays 
In all its blackest hue, 
Such is the mystery of grace, 
    It seals my pardon too!

John Newton (1725-1807)

Dr. Steven R. Cook

Be Still My Soul – Katharina von Schlegel

Pond

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on your side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to your God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: your best, your heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: your God will undertake
To guide the future as He has the past.
Your hope, your confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shall you better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe your sorrow and your fears.
Be still, my soul: your Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

Katharina von Schlegel, 1752

Dr. Steven R. Cook

Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing – Robert Robinson

Robert Robinson

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
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.

Robert Robinson, 1757

Dr. Steven R. Cook

How Firm a Foundation – John Rippon

John_Rippon

How firm a foundation, you saints of the Lord,
Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word!
What more can He say than to you He has said,
To you, who for refuge to Jesus have fled?

Fear not, I am with you, O be not dismayed,
For I am your God and will still give you aid;
I’ll strengthen you, help you, and cause you to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

When through the deep waters I call you to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not overflow;
For I will be with you, your troubles to bless,
And sanctify to you your deepest distress.

When through fiery trials your pathway shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be your supply;
The flame shall not hurt you; I only design
Your dross to consume, and your gold to refine.

The soul that on Jesus has leaned for repose,
I will not, I will not desert to its foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.

John Rippon, 1787

Dr. Steven R. Cook

The Vanity of Man as Mortal – Isaac Watts

Isaac Watts

The Vanity of Man as Mortal

Teach me the measure of my days,
Thou Maker of my frame;
I would survey life’s narrow space,
And learn how frail I am.
 
A span is all that we can boast,
An inch or two of time;
Man is but vanity and dust
In all his flower and prime.
 
See the vain race of mortals move
Like shadows o’er the plain;
They rage and strive, desire and love,
But all the noise is vain.
 
Some walk in honor’s gaudy show,
Some dig for golden ore;
They toil for heirs, they know not who,
And straight are seen no more.
 
What should I wish or wait for, then,
From creatures earth and dust?
They make our expectations vain,
And disappoint our trust.
 
Now I forbid my carnal hope,
My fond desires recall;
I give my mortal interest up,
And make my God my all. 

Isaac Watts

1674-1748

Dr. Steven R. Cook

Christ to the Cross – Steven R. Cook

Jesus nailed to Cross

Christ to the Cross ©

I and the Father led Christ to the cross,
Together we placed Him there;
I pushed Him forward, no care for the cost,
His Father’s wrath to bear.
Christ in the middle not wanting to die,
Knelt in the garden and prayed;
Great tears of blood the Savior did cry,
Yet His Father He humbly obeyed.

So He carried His cross down a dusty trail,
No words on His lips were found;
No cry was uttered as I drove the nails,
His arms to the cross were bound.
I lifted my Savior with arms spread wide,
He hung between heaven and earth;
I raised my spear and pierced His side,
What flowed was of infinite worth.

Like a Lamb to the altar Christ did go,
A sacrifice without blemish or spot;
A knife was raised, and life did flow,
In a basin the blood was caught.
Past the incense table and the dark black veil,
To that holy of holy places;
The blood of Christ was made to avail,
And all my sins it erases.

Now this Lamb on a cross was a demonstration
Of the Father’s love for me;
For the Savior’s death brought satisfaction,
Redeemed, and set me free.
Now I come to the Savior by faith alone,
Not trusting in works at all;
Jesus my substitute for sin did atone,
Salvation in answer to His call.

Steven R. Cook, D.Min.
May, 2006

–

O Christ, what burdens bowed Thy head! – Anne Ross Cousin

Anne Ross Cousin

O Christ, what burdens bowed Thy head! 
Our load was laid on Thee; 
Thou stoodest in the sinner’s stead – 
To bear all ill for me. 
A victim led, Thy blood was shed; 
Now there’s no load for me. 

Death and the curse were in our cup – 
O Christ, ’twas full for Thee! 
But Thou hast drained the last dark drop, 
‘Tis empty now for me. 
That bitter cup – love drank it up; 
Left but the love for me. 

Jehovah lifted up His rod – 
O Christ, it fell on Thee! 
Thou wast forsaken of Thy God; 
No distance now for me. 
Thy blood beneath that rod has flowed: 
Thy bruising healeth me. 

The tempest’s awful voice was heard, 
O Christ, it broke on Thee; 
Thy open bosom was my ward; 
It bore the storm for me. 
Thy form was scarred, Thy visage marred; 
Now cloudless peace for me. 

For me, Lord Jesus, Thou hast died, 
And I have died in Thee; 
Thou’rt risen: my bands are all untied; 
And now Thou liv’st in me. 
The Father’s face of radiant grace 
Shines now in light on me.

Anne Ross Cousin

Dr. Steven R. Cook