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Rev. iv. 8.

1

"Which was, and is, and is to come."
2 Holy, holy, holy! all the saints adore Thee,

Casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea;
Cherubim and seraphim falling down before Thee,

Which wert, and art, and evermore shalt be.
3 Holy, holy, holy! though the darkness hide Thee,

Though the eye of sinful man Thy glory may not see,
Only Thou art Holy, there is none beside Thee,

Perfect in power, in love, and purity.
4 Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!

All Thy works shall praise Thy Name in earth, and sky, and sea;
Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty!
God in Three Persons, Blessed Trinity!

Bp. Reginald Heber (1783—1826), 1829

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Our Shield and De-fender, The An- cient of days, Pa- vil-ioned in splendor, And gird

ed with praise.

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4

Light of Light,"
2 Fount of all our joy and peace,

To Thy living waters lead me;
Thou from earth my soul release,

And with grace and mercy feed me;
Bless Thy Word that it may prove

Rich in fruits that Thou dost love. 3 Kindle Thou the sacrifice

That upon my lips is lying;
Clear the shadows from mine eyes,

That, from every error flying,
No strange fire may in me glow
That Thine altar doth not know.
Let me with my heart to-day,

Holy, holy, holy, singing,
Rapt awhile from earth away,

All my soul to Thee up-springing, Have a foretaste inly given,

How they worship Thee in Heaven. 5 Rest in me and I in Thee,

Build a paradise within me: O reveal Thyself to me,

Blessed Love, who died'st to win me; Fed from Thine exhaustless urn,

Pure and bright my lamp shall burn. 6 Hence all care, all vanity,

For the day to God is holy: Come, thou glorious Majesty,

Deign to fill this temple lowly ; Naught to-day my soul shall move, Simply resting in Thy love.

Rev. Benjamin Schmolke (1672–1737), 1704 Tr. by Miss Catherine Winkworth (1829–1878), 1858.

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5
Morgenglans der Ewigkeit."

4 Thou who hast gone up on high, 2 Let Thy grace, like morning dew,

Grant that when Thy trumpet soundeth, Fall on hearts in Thee confiding ;

When with glory, in the sky, Thy sweet comfort, ever new,

Thee the cloud of saints surroundeth, Fill our souls with strength abiding;

We may stand among Thine own,
And Thy quickening eyes behold

Round Thy throne.
Thy dear fold.

5 Lead us to the golden shore,

o Thou rising Sun of Morning, 3 Give the flame of love, to burn Till the bands of sin it breaketh,

Lead where tears shall flow no more, Till, at each new day's return

Where all sighs to songs are turning, Purer light my soul awaketh ;

Where Thy glory sheds alway

Perfect day. 0, ere twilight come, let me

Knorr von Rosenroth (1636 1688), 1684. Rise to Thee.

Tr. by Rev. John Henry Hopkins (1820– ), 1866, Sl. alt.

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