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One Hundred Holy Songs, Carols, and Sacred Ballads

Original, and suitable for music [by Jean Ingelow]
Ingelow, Jean (1820-1897)

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[He with good gifts that most is blest]
  
SONG OF PRAISE FOR LONDON.
  
[Thou wert far off, and in the sight of heaven]
  
CHRISTMAS HYMN.
  
[Weeping and wailing needs must be]
  
MORNING.
  
[Thou hast found me and I faint, I cannot bear Thy light]
  
[Rise, for God calls thee, leaning down to bless]
  
[Now the psalm to heaven ascending]
  
[Let me hate mine own life]
  
[When children are sick, when times are hard]
  
[All desiring, nothing won]
  
CAROL.
  
CHRISTMAS WAITS.
  
[Sweet are His ways who rules above]
  
[Thick orchards, all in white]
  
FROM PSALM CXXX.
  
[I am dead with Thee, and I remain]
  
[It is the Lord. He stands with thorny crown]
  
[O! that I had wings]
  
ADVENT SUNDAY. EVENING.
  
[When through the meads I go]
  
[The measureless gulfs of air are full of Thee]
  
A PORTION OF PSALM XLII.
  
[When it was well with me]
  
[Such as have not gold to bring Thee]
  
I.
  
II.
  
[It is not dying daunts the heart]
  
[When I lie waking, my heart nigh to breaking]
  
GOOD FRIDAY.
  
FRIDAY.
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Double Hymn.
  
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[Mary of Magdala, when the moon had set]
  
Double Hymn.
  
[Thy body done to death below]
  
[In the night I think on Thee]
  
[Thou to whom my soul aspires]
  
PART OF PSALM LXIV.
  
[In foul and cheerless places]
  
[O Christ of God, in my good days]
  
[Somewhere, quiet in the rest of God]
  
[Our Saviour fear'd the suff'ring that should be]
  
[I cast my cares on Thee]
  
[Thy son, Adam, was red clay]
  
[O Zion on the sacred hills]
  
(Hymn with a Burden.)
  
[Emptied of good, with many cares oppress'd]
  
A REQUIEM.
  
[Dear is the lost wife to a lone man's heart]
  
THE BROODING OF THE DOVE.
  
THE BROODING OF THE DOVE.
  
[Now my sun will soon depart]
  
[Like a great river Thy love flows]
  
EVENING.
  
[Now will I sing a song I learn'd of old]
  
SERVICE.
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Double Hymn.
  
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HARVEST.
  
CONFLICT.
  
[Now winter past, the white-thorn bower]
  
[As a pillar on the shore]
  
[All in still heat the waters lie]
  
[In great London as I walk'd, and day was dying]
  
ADVENT.
  
[A still small voice would fain me rouse]
  
NEW YEAR'S EVE; OR, “THE WATCH-NIGHT.”
  
HYMN FOR EDINBURGH.
  
FROM ISAIAH LXIV.
  
[Holy of Holies, forming Mind]
  
EARLY QUESTIONS OF THE CHURCH.
  
[Tell to us, tell, O, Church of God]
  
EASTER.
  
[Would I, to save my dear child dutiful]
  
[Was never sight so wondrous given?]
  
[I sought the Lord, and afterward I knew]
  
[The meaning of Thy meat and drink]
  
THE EARLY QUESTIONS OF THE CHURCH.
  
THE MILKY WAY.
  
[Mighty and merciful, to Thee]
  
[Lord, how Thou lovest! with each one]
  
[All in the city, whose gates are gold]
  
[Thou, who didst bear man's grief of old]
  
PALM SUNDAY.
  
THE SAVIOUR'S MESSAGE TO THE ISLANDS CONCERNING ISRAEL.
  
ASCENSION DAY.
  
[Thee my soul desires]
  
[That precious oil we bought of Thee]
  
[While his God, th' Almighty Lord]
  
[Thou hast been alway good to me and mine]
  
[“Dark is my place and chill the night]
  
PRAYER AGAINST THE GREAT SEPARATION.
  
PRAYER AGAINST THE GREAT SEPARATION.
  
[I sit before Him, and it draws to night]
  
EARLY QUESTIONS OF THE CHURCH.
  
EARLY QUESTIONS OF THE CHURCH.
  
LISTENING TO THE WAITS.
  
[How dreadful is this place.]
  
[I wait till Christ be form'd in me]
  
[Lord Christ, the river is so cold]
  
[Among the worlds of God lay one]

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109

[Would I, to save my dear child dutiful]

“Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such an one as thyself.”

Would I, to save my dear child dutiful,
Dare the white breakers on a storm-rent shore?
Ay, truly, Thou all good, all beautiful,
Truly I would,—then truly Thou would'st more.
Would I for my poor son, who desolate
After long sinning, sued without my door
For pardon, open it? Ay, fortunate
To hear such prayer, I would,—Lord, Thou would'st more.
Would I for e'en the stranger's weariness
And want divide, albeit 'twere scant, my store?
Ay, and mine enemy, sick, shelterless,
Dying, I would attend,—O, Lord, Thou more.
In dust and ashes my long infamy
Of unbelief I rue. My love before
Thy love I set: my heart's discovery,
Is sweet,—whate'er I would, Thou wouldest more.
I was Thy shelterless, sick enemy,
And Thou did'st die for me, yet heretofore
I have fear'd; now learn I love's supremacy,—
Whate'er is known of love, Thou lovest more.
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