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Lord, as to Thy dear cross we flee

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #251 (1871) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 Lord, as to Thy dear cross we flee, And plead to be forgiven, So let Thy life our pattern be, And form our souls for heaven. 2 Help us, through good report and ill, Our daily cross to bear; Like Thee, to do our Father's will; Our brethren's grief to share. 3 Let grace our selfishness expel, Our earthliness refine; And kindness in our bosoms dwell, As free and true as Thine. 4 If joy shall at Thy bidding fly, And grief's dark day come on, We, in our turn, would meekly cry, "Father, Thy will be done." 5 Kept peaceful in the midst of strife, Forgiving and forgiven O may we lead the pilgrim's life, And follow Thee to heaven. Topics: Offices of the Church Visitation of the Sick Languages: English

When our heads are bowed with woe

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #252 (1871) Lyrics: 1 When our heads are bowed with woe, When our bitter tears o'erflow, When we mourn the lost, the dear, Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. 2 Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn, Thou our mortal griefs hast borne, Thou hast shed the human tear; Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. 3 When the solemn death-bell tolls For our own departing souls, When our final doom is near, Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. 4 Thou hast bowed the dying head, Thou the blood of life hast shed, Thou hast filled a mortal bier; Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. 5 When the heart is sad within With the thought of all its sin, When the spirit shrinks with fear, Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. 6 Thou the shame, the grief, hast known, Though the sins were not Thine own; Thou hast deigned their load to bear; Jesu, Son of Mary, hear. Topics: Offices of the Church Visitation of the Sick Languages: English

Thou art my Hiding-place, O Lord!

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #253 (1871) Lyrics: 1 Thou art my Hiding-place, O Lord! In Thee I put my trust, Encouraged by Thy holy word, A feeble child of dust. I have no argument beside, I urge no other plea; And 'tis enough my Saviour died, My Saviour died for me. 2 When storms of fierce temptation beat, And furious foes assail, My refuge is the mercy-seat, My hope within the veil. From strife of tongues and bitter words My spirit flies to Thee: Joy to my heart the thought affords, My Saviour died for me. 3 'Mid trials heavy to be borne, When mortal strength is vain, A heart with grief and anguish torn, A body rack'd with pain. -- Ah! what could give the sufferer rest, Bid every murmur flee, But this, the witness in my breast That Jesus died for me? 4 And when Thine awful voice commands This body to decay, And life, in its last lingering sands, Is ebbing fast away,-- Then, though it be in accents weak, And faint and tremblingly, O give me strength in death to speak, My Savior died for me. Topics: Offices of the Church Visitation of the Sick Languages: English

Thy way, not mine, O Lord

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #254 (1871) Lyrics: 1 Thy way, not mine, O Lord, However dark it be: Lead me by Thine own hand, Choose out the path for me. Smooth let it be or rough, It will be still the best; Winding or straight, it leads Right onward to Thy Rest 2 I dare not choose my lot; I would not if I might: Choose Thou for me, my God; So shall I walk aright. Take Thou my cup, and it With joy or sorrow fill As best to Thee may seem; Choose Thou my good and ill. 3 Choose Thou for me my friends, My sickness or my health; Choose Thou my cares for me, My poverty or wealth. Not mine, not mine the choice In things or great or small; Be Thou my guide, my strength, My wisdom, and my all. Topics: Offices of the Church Visitation of the Sick Languages: English

When musing sorrow weeps the past

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #255 (1871) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 When musing sorrow weeps the past, And mourns the present pain, How sweet to think of peace at last, And feel that death is gain! 2 'Tis not that mumuring thoughts arise, And dread a Father's will; 'Tis not that meek submission flies, And would not suffer still; 3 It is that heaven-taught faith surveys The path that leads to light, And longs her eagle plumes to raise, And lose herself in sight. 4 It is that hope with ardour glows To see Him face to face, Whose dying love no language knows Sufficient art to trace. 5 It is that tortur'd conscience feels The pangs of struggling sin; Sees, though afar, the Hand that heals, And ends her war within. 6 O let me wing my hallow'd flight From earth-born woe and care, And soar above these clouds of night My Saviour's bliss to share. Topics: Offices of the Church Visitation of the Sick Languages: English

Thy will be done

Author: Charlotte Elliott Hymnal: HPEC1871 #256 (1871) Meter: Irregular First Line: My God, my Father, while I stray Lyrics: 1 My God, my Father, while I stray Far from my home in life's rough way, O teach me from my heart to say, "Thy will be done." 2 Though dark my path, and sad my lot, Let me be still and murmur not, Or breathe the prayer Divinely taught, "Thy will be done." 3 What though in lonely grief I sigh For friends beloved, no longer nigh, Submissive still would I reply, "Thy will be done." 4 If Thou shouldst call me to resign What most I prize -- it ne'er was mine: I only yield Thee what was Thine -- "Thy will be done." 5 Let but my fainting heart be blest With Thy sweet Spirit for its Guest, My God, to Thee I leave the rest; "Thy will be done." 6 Renew my will from day to day, Blend it with Thine, and take away All that now makes it hard to say, "Thy will be done." Topics: Offices of the Church Visitation of the Sick Languages: English

Whate'er my God ordains is right

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #257 (1871) Meter: Irregular Lyrics: 1 Whate'er my God ordains is right; His will is ever just; Howe'er He orders now my cause, I will be still and trust. He is my God; Though dark my road, He holds me that I shall not fall, Wherefore to Him I leave it all. 2 Whate'er my God ordains is right; He never will deceive; He leads me by the proper path, And so to Him I cleave, And take content What He hath sent; His hand can turn my griefs away, And patiently I wait His day. 3 Whate'er my God ordains is right; Though I the cup must drink That bitter seems to my faint heart, I will not fear nor shrink; Tears pass away With dawn of day; Sweet comfort yet shall fill my heart, And pain and sorrow shall depart. 4 Whate'er my God ordains is right; My Light, My Life is He, Who cannot will me aught but good; I trust Him utterly; For well I know, In joy or woe, We soon shall see, as sunlight clear, How faithful was our Guardian here. 5 Whate'er my God ordains is right; Here swill I take my stand, Though sorrow, need, or death make earth For me a desert land. My Father's care Is around me there, He holds me that I shall not fall, And so to Him I leave it all. Topics: Offices of the Church Visitation of the Sick Languages: English

Lord, let me know my term of days

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #258 (1871) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 Lord, let me know my term of days How soon my life will end; The numerous train of ills disclose, Which this frail state attend. 2 My Life, Thou know'st, is but a span, A cipher sums my years; And every man, in best estate, But vanity appears. 3 Man, like a shadow, vainly walks, With fruitless cares oppress'd; He heaps up wealth, but cannot tell By whom 'twill be possess'd. 4 Why then should I on worthless toys With anxious cares attend? On Thee alone my steadfast hope Shall ever, Lord, depend. 5 Lord, hear my cry, accept my tears, And listen to my prayer, Who sojourn like a stranger here, As all my fathers were. 6. O spare me yet a little time; My wasted strength restore, Before I vanish quite from hence, And shall be seen no more. Topics: Offices of the Church Burial of the Dead Languages: English

Hear what the voice from heaven declares

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #259 (1871) Meter: 8.6.8.6 Lyrics: 1 Hear what the voice from heaven declares To those in Christ who die: Released from all their earthly cares, They'll reign with Him on high. 2 Then why lament departed friends, Or shake at death's alarms? Death's but the servant Jesus sends to call us to His arms. 3 If sin be pardon'd, we're secure, Death hath no sting beside; The law gave sin its strength and power, But Christ, our Ransom, died. 4 The grave of all His saints He bless'd, When in the grave He lay: and, rising thence, their hopes He raised To everlasting day. 5 Then joyfully, while life we have, To Christ, our Life, we'll sing, "Where is thy victory, O grave? And where, O death, they sting? Topics: Offices of the Church Burial of the Dead Languages: English

Asleep in Jesus! blessed sleep!

Hymnal: HPEC1871 #260 (1871) Meter: 8.8.8.8 Lyrics: 1 Asleep in Jesus! blessèd sleep! From which none ever wakes to weep; A calm and undisturb'd repose, Unbroken by the last of foes. 2 Asleep in Jesus! Oh, how sweet To be for such a slumber meet; With holy confidence to sing That death hath lost its painful sting! 3 Asleep in Jesus! peaceful rest! Whose waking is supremely blest; No fear, no woe, shall dim that hour That manifests the Saviour's power. 4 Asleep in Jesus! Oh, for me May such a blissful refuge be! Securely shall my ashes lie, Waiting the summons from on high. 5 Asleep in Jesus! far from thee Thy kindred and their graves may be; But there is still a blessèd sleep, From which none ever wakes to weep. Languages: English