Alas, and Did My Savior Bleed

Alas, and did my Savior bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred head
For such a worm as I?
Was it for sins that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity, grace unknown
And love beyond degree

My God, why would You shed Your blood
So pure and undefiled
To make a sinful one like me
Your chosen, precious child?

Well might the sun in darkness hide
And shut His glories in
When Christ, the mighty Maker, died
For man, the creature’s, sin
Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear cross appears
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness
And melt my eyes to tears
credits

Original words by Isaac Watts, additional words and music by Bob Kauflin,
From Love Beyond Degree, released May 1, 1997, ©1997 Sovereign Grace Praise (BMI)

Give to Our God Immortal Praise

Give to our God immortal praise;
Mercy and truth are all His ways;
Wonders of grace to God belong;
Repeat His mercies in your song.

He built the earth, He spread the sky,
And fixed the starry lights on high;
Wonders of grace to God belong;
Repeat His mercies in your song.

He fills the sun with morning light,
He bids the moon direct the night;
His mercies ever shall endure
When suns and moons shall shine no more.

He sent His Son with pow’r to save
From guilt and darkness and the grave;
Wonders of grace to God belong;
Repeat His mercies in your song.

Through this vain world He guides our feet
And leads us to His heav’nly seat;
His mercies ever shall endure
When this our world shall be no more.

-Isaac Watts, John Hatton (Bob Kauflin on piano)

O God Our Help in Ages Past

Our God, our help in ages past,
our hope for years to come,
our shelter from the stormy blast,
and our eternal home:

Under the shadow of your throne
your saints have dwelt secure;
sufficient is your arm alone,
and our defense is sure.

Before the hills in order stood
or earth received its frame,
from everlasting you are God,
to endless years the same.

A thousand ages in your sight
are like an evening gone,
short as the watch that ends the night
before the rising sun.

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,
soon bears us all away;
we fly forgotten, as a dream
dies at the opening day.

Our God, our help in ages past,
our hope for years to come,
still be our guard while troubles last,
and our eternal home!

-Isaac Watts

Shepherds, Rejoice! Lift Up Your Eyes

“Shepherds, rejoice! lift up your eyes,
And send your fears away;
News from the regions of the skies,
Salvation’s born today.

“Jesus, the God Whom angels fear,
Comes down to dwell with you;
Today He makes His entrance here,
But not as monarchs do.

“No gold nor purple swaddling bands.
Nor royal shining things;
A manger for His cradle stands,
And holds the King of kings.

“Go, shepherds, where the Infant lies,
And see His humble throne
With tears of joy in all your eyes,
Go, shepherds, kiss the Son.”

Thus Gabriel sang, and straight around
The heav’nly armies throng;
They tune their harps to lofty sound,
And thus conclude the song:

“Glory to God that reigns above!
Let peace surround the earth!
Mortals shall know their Maker’s love,
At their Redeemer’s birth.”

Lord, and shall angels have their songs,
And men no tunes to raise?
O may we lose our useless tongues
When they forget to praise.

Glory to God that reigns above,
That pitied us forlorn;
We join to sing our Maker’s love,
For there’s a Savior born.

-Isaac Watts, Horæ Lyr­i­ca, 1706-9.

To God the Only Wise

To God the only wise,
Our Savior and our King,
Let all the saints below the skies
Their humble praises bring.

’Tis His almighty love,
His counsel, and His care,
Preserves us safe from sin and death,
And every hurtful snare.

He will present our souls,
Unblemished and complete,
Before the glory of His face,
With joys divinely great.

Then all the chosen seed
Shall meet around the throne,
Shall bless the conduct of His grace,
And make His wonders known.

To our Redeemer, God,
Wisdom and power belongs,
Immortal crowns of majesty,
And everlasting songs.

-Isaac Watts, Hymns and Spir­it­u­al Songs, 1707.

Come, Children, Learn to Fear the Lord

Come, children, learn to fear the Lord
And that your days be long,
Let not a false or spiteful word
Be found upon your tongue.

Depart from mischief, practice love,
Pursue the works of peace;
So shall the Lord your ways approve,
And set your souls at ease.

His eyes awake to guard the just,
His ears attend their cry;
When broken spirits dwell in dust,
The God of grace is nigh.

What though the sorrows here they taste
Are sharp and tedious too,
The Lord, who saves them all at last,
Is their supporter now.

Evil shall smite the wicked dead;
But God secures His own,
Prevents the mischief when they slide,
Or heals the broken bone.

When desolation, like a flood,
O’er the proud sinner rolls,
Saints find a refuge in their God,
For He redeemed their souls.

-Isaac Watts, The Psalms of Da­vid, 1719. (Psalm 34)

My God, Permit My Tongue

My God, permit my tongue
This joy, to call Thee mine;
And let my early cries prevail
To taste Thy love divine.

My thirsty, fainting soul
Thy mercy doth implore;
Not travelers in desert lands
Can pant for water more.

Within Thy churches, Lord,
I long to find my place;
Thy power and glory to behold,
And feel Thy quick’ning grace.

For life without Thy love
No relish can afford;
No joy can be compared to this,
To serve and please the Lord.

To Thee I’ll lift my hands,
And praise Thee while I live;
Not the rich dainties of a feast
Such food or pleasure give.

In wakeful hours at night
I call my God to mind;
I think how wise Thy counsels are,
And all Thy dealings kind.

Since thou hast been my help,
To Thee my spirit flies,
And on Thy watchful providence
My cheerful hope relies.

The shadow of Thy wings
My soul in safety keeps;
I follow where my Father leads,
And He supports my steps.

-Isaac Watts, Psalm 63, The Psalms of David, 1719.

In Anger, Lord, Rebuke Me Not

In anger, Lord, rebuke me not;
Withdraw the dreadful storm;
Nor let Thy fury grow so hot
Against a feeble worm.

My soul’s bow’d down with heavy cares,
My flesh with pain oppress’d;
My couch is witness to my tears,
My tears forbid my rest.

Sorrow and pain wear out my days;
I waste the night with cries,
Counting the minutes as they pass,
Till the slow morning rise.

Shall I be still tormented more?
Mine eye consum’d with grief?
How long, my God, how long before
Thine hand afford relief?

He hears when dust and ashes speak,
He pities all our groans;
He saves us for His mercy’s sake,
And heals our broken bones.

The virtue of His sov’reign Word
Restores our fainting breath;
For silent graves praise not the Lord,
Nor is He known in death.

-Isaac Watts, Psalm 6, The Psalms of David, 1719.

Join All the Glorious Names

Join all the glorious names
Of wisdom, love, and power,
That ever mortals knew,
That angels ever bore:
All are too mean to speak His worth,
To poor to set my Savior forth.

But O what gentle terms,
What condescending ways,
Doth our Redeemer use
To teach his heav’nly grace!
Mine eyes with joy and wonder see
What forms of love He bears for me.

Arrayed in mortal flesh,
He like an angel stands,
And holds the promises
And pardons in His hands;
Commissioned from His Father’s throne
To make His grace to mortals known.

Great Prophet of my God,
My tongue would bless Thy Name,
By Thee the joyful news
Of our salvation came,
The joyful news of sin forgiv’n
Of hell subdued, and peace with Heav’n.

Be Thou my Counsellor,
My Pattern, and my Guide,
And through this desert land
Still keep me near thy side:
Nor let my feet e’er run astray
Nor rove nor seek the crooked way.

I love my Shepherd’s voice,
His watchful eyes shall keep
My wand’ring soul among
The thousands of His sheep:
He feeds His flock, He calls their names,
His bosom bears the tender lambs.

To this dear Surety’s hand
Will I commit my cause;
He answers and fulfils
His Father’s broken laws:
Behold my soul at freedom set!
My Surety paid the dreadful debt.

Jesus, my great High Priest,
Offered His blood, and died;
My guilty conscience seeks
No sacrifice beside:
His powerful blood did once atone,
And now it pleads before the throne.

My Advocate appears
For my defense on high;
The Father bows his ears,
And lays his thunder by:
Not all that hell or sin can say
Shall turn his heart, his love away.

My dear almighty Lord,
My Conqueror and my King,
Thy scepter and Thy sword,
Thy reigning grace I sing:
Thine is the power; behold I sit
In willing bonds beneath Thy feet.

Now let my soul arise,
And tread the tempter down;
My Captain leads me forth
To conquest and a crown:
A feeble saint shall win the day,
Though death and hell obstruct the way.

Should all the hosts of death,
And powers of hell unknown,
Put their most dreadful forms
Of rage and mischief on,
I shall be safe, for Christ displays
Superior power, and guardian grace.

-Isaac Watts, Hymns and Sacred Songs, 1709.

From All That Dwell Below the Skies

From all that dwell below the skies,
Let the Creator’s praise arise;
Let the Redeemer’s Name be sung,
Through every land, by every tongue.

Eternal are Thy mercies, Lord;
Eternal truth attends Thy Word.
Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore,
Till suns rise and set no more.

Your lofty themes, ye mortals, bring,
In songs of praise divinely sing;
The great salvation loud proclaim,
And shout for joy the Savior’s Name.

In every land begin the song;
To every land the strains belong;
In cheerful sounds all voices raise,
And fill the world with loudest praise.

-Isaac Watts, Psalm 117, The Psalms of Da­vid, 1719; stan­za 3, anon­y­mous; stanza 4, Ro­bert Spence, Pock­et Hymn Book, 1780.