Coram Deo

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Verse 1

O worship the King all glorious above,
O gratefully sing His power and His love;
Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of days,
Pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise.

Verse 2

O tell of His might, O sing of His grace,
Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space.
His chariots of wrath the deep thunder-clouds form,
And dark is His path on the wings of the storm.

Verse 3

The earth with its store of wonders untold,
Almighty, Thy power hath founded of old;
Hath stablished it fast by a changeless decree,
And round it hath cast, like a mantle, the sea.

Verse 4

Thy bountiful care what tongue can recite?
It breathes in the air; it shines in the light;
It streams from the hills; it descends to the plain;
And sweetly distils in the dew and the rain.

Verse 5

Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
In Thee do we trust, nor find Thee to fail;
Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end,
Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend!

Verse 6

O measureless Might! Ineffable Love!
While angels delight to hymn Thee above,
The humbler creation, though feeble their lays,
With true adoration shall lisp to Thy praise.

Robert Grant, “O Worship the King All Glorious Above”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 113 · 10.10.11.11. · Hanover

Verse 1

Praise, Lord, for Thee in Zion waits;
Prayer shall besiege Thy temple gates:
All flesh shall to Thy throne repair,
And find, through Christ, salvation there.

Verse 2

Our spirits faint; our sins prevail;
Leave not our trembling hearts to fail:
O Thou that hearest prayer, descend,
And still be found the sinner’s Friend.

Verse 3

How blest are Thy saints! how safely led,
How surely kept, how richly fed!
Saviour of all in earth and sea,
How happy they who rest in Thee!

Verse 4

Thy hand sets fast the mighty hills,
Thy voice the troubled ocean stills;
Evening and morning hymn Thy praise,
And earth Thy bounty wide displays.

Verse 5

The year is with Thy goodness crowned;
Thy clouds drop wealth the world around;
Through Thee the deserts laugh and sing,
And nature smiles, and owns her King.

Verse 6

Lord, on our souls Thine influence pour:
The moral waste within restore:
O let Thy love our spring-tide be,
And make us all bear fruit to Thee.

Henry F. Lyte, “Praise, Lord, for Thee in Zion Waits”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 119 · L.M. · Sefton

Not yet anchored to a scripture passage

HL
God of Mercy, God of Grace

Henry F. Lyte·Modern

Verse 1

God of mercy, God of grace,
Show the brightness of Thy face;
Shine upon us, Saviour, shine,
Fill Thy Church with light Divine;
And Thy saving health extend
Unto earth’s remotest end.

Verse 2

Let the people praise Thee, Lord;
Be by all that live adored;
Let the nations shout and sing,
Glory to their Saviour King;
At Thy feet their tributes pay,
And Thy holy will obey.

Verse 3

Let the people praise Thee, Lord;
Earth shall then her fruits afford;
God to man His blessing give,
Man to God devoted live;
All below, and all above,
One in joy, and light, and love.

Henry F. Lyte, “God of Mercy, God of Grace”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 124 · 7.7.7.7.7.7. · Hallett

Not yet anchored to a scripture passage

JM
Thank and Praise Jehovah's Name

James Montgomery·Modern

Verse 1

Thank and praise Jehovah’s Name;
For His mercies firm and sure,
From eternity the same,
To eternity endure.

Verse 2

Let the ransomed thus rejoice,
Gathered out of every land,
As the people of His choice,
Plucked from the destroyer’s hand.

Verse 3

In the wilderness astray,
Hither, thither, while they roam,
Hungry, fainting by the way,
Far from refuge, shelter, home:

Verse 4

Then unto the Lord they cry;
He inclines a gracious ear,
Sends deliverance from on high,
Rescues them from all their fear.

Verse 5

To a pleasant land He brings,
Where the vine and olive grow,
Where from flowery hills the springs
Through luxuriant valleys flow.

Verse 6

O that men would praise the Lord
For His goodness to their race,
For the wonders of His word,
And the riches of His grace.

James Montgomery, “Thank and Praise Jehovah's Name”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 132 · 7.7.7.7. · Theodora

Verse 1

Praise, my soul, the King of heaven,
To His feet thy tribute bring;
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who, like me, His praise should sing?
Praise Him, praise Him,
Praise the Everlasting King.

Verse 2

Praise Him for His grace and favor
To our fathers in distress;
Praise Him, still the same for ever,
Slow to chide, and swift to bless;
Praise Him, praise Him,
Glorious in His faithfulness.

Verse 3

Father-like, He tends and spares us;
Well our feeble frame He knows;
In His hands He gently bears us,
Rescues us from all our foes;
Praise Him, praise Him,
Widely as His mercy goes.

Verse 4

Angels, help us to adore Him;
Ye behold Him face to face;
Sun and moon, bow down before Him,
Dwellers all in time and space,
Praise Him, praise Him,
Praise with us the God of grace.

Henry F. Lyte, “Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 133 · 8.7.8.7.4.7. · Benedic Anima

R1
Lift Up to God the Voice of Praise

Ralph Wardlaw, 1803·Modern

Verse 1

LIFT up to God the voice of praise,
Whose breath our souls inspired;
Loud, and more loud the anthem raise,
With grateful ardor fired.

Verse 2

Lift up to God the voice of praise,
Whose goodness, passing thought,
Loads every minute as it flies,
With benefits unsought.

Verse 3

Lift up to God the voice of praise,
From whom salvation flows,
Who sent his Son, our souls to save
From everlasting woes.

Verse 4

Lift up to God the voice of praise,
For hope’s transporting ray,
Which lights, through darkest shades of death,
To realms of endless day.

Otterbein 1890 No. 17

Not yet anchored to a scripture passage

Verse 1

O worship the King, all-glorious above,
And gratefully sing his wonderful love;
Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of days,
Pavilioned in splendor and girdled with praise.

Verse 2

Thy bountiful care, what tongue can recite?
It breathes in the air, it shines in the light;
It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain,
And sweetly distills in the dew and the rain.

Verse 3

Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
In thee do we trust, nor find thee to fail;
Thy mercies, how tender! how firm to the end,
Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend!

Verse 4

Our Father and God, how faithful thy love!
While angels delight to hymn thee above,
The humbler creation, though feeble their lays.
With true adoration shall lisp to thy praise.

Otterbein 1890 No. 28 · 10s & 11s · Lyons

Not yet anchored to a scripture passage

Verse 1

O worship the King all glorious above,
O gratefully sing His power and His love;
Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of days,
Pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise.

Verse 2

O tell of His might, O sing of His grace,
Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space.
His chariots of wrath the deep thunder-clouds form,
And dark is His path on the wings of the storm.

Verse 3

The earth with its store of wonders untold,
Almighty, Thy power hath founded of old;
Hath stablished it fast by a changeless decree,
And round it hath cast, like a mantle, the sea.

Verse 4

Thy bountiful care what tongue can recite?
It breathes in the air; it shines in the light;
It streams from the hills; it descends to the plain;
And sweetly distils in the dew and the rain.

Verse 5

Frail children of dust, and feeble as frail,
In Thee do we trust, nor find Thee to fail;
Thy mercies how tender, how firm to the end,
Our Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend!

Verse 6

O measureless Might! Ineffable Love!
While angels delight to hymn Thee above,
The humbler creation, though feeble their lays,
With true adoration shall lisp to Thy praise.

Gospel Hymns 1895 No. 442 · 10.10.11.11. · Hanover

Verse 1

Praise, my soul, the King of heaven,
To His feet thy tribute bring;
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who, like me, His praise should sing?
Praise Him, praise Him,
Praise the Everlasting King.

Verse 2

Praise Him for His grace and favor
To our fathers in distress;
Praise Him, still the same for ever,
Slow to chide, and swift to bless;
Praise Him, praise Him,
Glorious in His faithfulness.

Verse 3

Father-like, He tends and spares us;
Well our feeble frame He knows;
In His hands He gently bears us,
Rescues us from all our foes;
Praise Him, praise Him,
Widely as His mercy goes.

Verse 4

Angels, help us to adore Him;
Ye behold Him face to face;
Sun and moon, bow down before Him,
Dwellers all in time and space,
Praise Him, praise Him,
Praise with us the God of grace.

Gospel Hymns 1895 No. 468 · 8.7.8.7.4.7. · Benedic Anima

WD

Verse 1

To Thee, O Lord, our hearts we raise
In hymns of adoration,
To Thee bring sacrifice of praise
With shouts of exultation:
Bright robes of gold the fields adorn,
The hills with joy are ringing,
The valleys stand so thick with corn
That even they are singing.

Verse 2

And now, on this our festal day,
Thy bounteous hand confessing,
Upon Thine altar, Lord, we lay
The first-fruits of Thy blessing:
By Thee the souls of men are fed
With gifts of grace supernal;
Thou who dost give us daily bread,
Give us the Bread eternal.

Verse 3

We bear the burden of the day,
And often toil seems dreary;
But labor ends with sunset ray,
And rest is for the weary:
May we, the angel-reaping o’er,
Stand at the last accepted,
Christ’s golden sheaves for evermore
To garners bright elected.

Verse 4

O blessed is that land of God,
Where saints abide for ever,
Where golden fields spread fair and broad,
Where flows the crystal river:
The strains of all its holy throng
With ours to-day are blending,
Thrice blessed is that harvest-song
Which never hath an ending.

William C. Dix, “To Thee, O Lord, Our Hearts We Raise”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 657 · 8.7.8.7.D. · Golden Sheaves

EB
O Throned, O Crowned with All Renown

Edward W. Benson·Modern

Verse 1

O Throned, O Crowned with all renown,
Since Thou the earth hast trod,
Thou reignest, and by Thee come down
Henceforth the gifts of God:
By Thee the suns of space, that burn
Unspent, their watches hold;
The hosts that turn, and still return,
Are swayed, and poised, and rolled.

Verse 2

And as, when ebbed the Flood, our sires
Kneeled on the mountain sod,
While o’er the new world’s altar fires
Shone out the bow of God;
And sweetly fell the peaceful spell,
Word that shall aye avail,
“Summer and winter shall not cease,
Seed-time nor harvest fail,”—

Verse 3

Thus in their change let frost and heat
And winds and dews be given;
All fostering power, all influence sweet
Breathe from the bounteous heaven:
Attemper fair with gentle air
The sunshine and the rain,
That kindly earth, with timely birth,
May yield her fruits again.

Verse 4

That we may feed Thy poor aright,
And, gathering round Thy throne,
Here, in the holy angels’ sight,
Repay Thee of Thine own:
That we may praise Thee all our days,
And with the Father’s Name,
And with the Holy Spirit’s gifts,
The Saviour’s love proclaim.

Edward W. Benson, “O Throned, O Crowned with All Renown”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 658 · C.M.D. · Morgan

JM
Sing to the Lord of Harvest

John S. B. Monsell·Modern

Verse 1

Sing to the Lord of harvest,
Sing songs of love and praise;
With joyful hearts and voices
Your alleluias raise:
By Him the rolling seasons
In fruitful order move;
Sing to the Lord of harvest
A song of happy love.

Verse 2

By Him the clouds drop fatness,
The deserts bloom and spring,
The hills leap up in gladness,
The valleys laugh and sing:
He filleth with His fulness
All things with large increase,
He crowns the year with goodness,
With plenty and with peace.

Verse 3

Heap on His sacred altar
The gifts His goodness gave,
The golden sheaves of harvest,
The souls He died to save:
Your hearts lay down before Him,
When at His feet ye fall,
And with your lives adore Him,
Who gave His life for all.

Verse 4

To God the gracious Father,
Who made us “very good,”
To Christ, who, when we wandered,
Restored us with His blood,
And to the Holy Spirit,
Who doth upon us pour
His blessed dews and sunshine,
Be praise for evermore.

John S. B. Monsell, “Sing to the Lord of Harvest”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 659 · 7.6.7.6.D. · Greenland

HA
Come, Ye Thankful People, Come

Henry Alford·Modern

Verse 1

Come, ye thankful people, come,
Raise the song of harvest-home:
All is safely gathered in,
Ere the winter storms begin;
God, our Maker, doth provide
For our wants to be supplied:
Come to God’s own temple, come,
Raise the song of harvest-home.

Verse 2

All the world is God’s own field,
Fruit unto His praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown,
Unto joy or sorrow grown:
First the blade, and then the ear,
Then the full corn shall appear:
Lord of harvest, grant that we
Wholesome grain and pure may be.

Verse 3

For the Lord our God shall come,
And shall take His harvest home;
From His field shall in that day
All offences purge away;
Give His angels charge at last
In the fire the tares to cast,
But the fruitful ears to store
In His garner evermore.

Verse 4

Even so, Lord, quickly come
To Thy final harvest home;
Gather Thou Thy people in,
Free from sorrow, free from sin;
There for ever purified,
In Thy presence to abide:
Come, with all Thine angels, come,
Raise the glorious harvest home.

Henry Alford, “Come, Ye Thankful People, Come”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 660 · 7.7.7.7.D. · St. George's, Windsor

LB
O God, Beneath Thy Guiding Hand

Leonard Bacon·Modern

Verse 1

O God, beneath Thy guiding hand
Our exiled fathers crossed the sea;
And when they trod the wintry strand,
With prayer and psalm they worshipped Thee.

Verse 2

Thou heard’st, well pleased, the song, the prayer:
Thy blessing came; and still its power
Shall onward, through all ages, bear
The memory of that holy hour.

Verse 3

Laws, freedom, truth, and faith in God
Came with those exiles o’er the waves;
And where their pilgrim feet have trod,
The God they trusted guards their graves.

Verse 4

And here Thy Name, O God of love,
Their children’s children shall adore,
Till these eternal hills remove,
And spring adorns the earth no more.

Leonard Bacon, “O God, Beneath Thy Guiding Hand”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 662 · L.M. · (Wareham)

OH
O Lord of Hosts, Almighty King

Oliver Wendell Holmes·Modern

Verse 1

O Lord of hosts, Almighty King,
Behold the sacrifice we bring:
To every arm Thy strength impart;
Thy Spirit shed through every heart.

Verse 2

Wake in our breasts the living fires,
The holy faith that warmed our sires:
Thy hand hath made our nation free;
To die for her is serving Thee.

Verse 3

Be Thou a pillared flame to show
The midnight snare, the silent foe;
And when the battle thunders loud,
Still guide us in its moving cloud.

Verse 4

God of all nations, Sovereign Lord,
In Thy dread Name we draw the sword,
We lift the starry flag on high
That fills with light our stormy sky.

Verse 5

From treason’s rent, from murder’s stain,
Guard Thou its folds till peace shall reign,
Till fort and field, till shore and sea,
Join our loud anthem,—Praise to Thee.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, “O Lord of Hosts, Almighty King”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 663 · L.M. · Mendon

Not yet anchored to a scripture passage

HB
O God of Love, O King of Peace

Henry W. Baker·Modern

Verse 1

O God of love, O King of peace,
Make wars throughout the world to cease;
The wrath of sinful man restrain;
Give peace, O God, give peace again.

Verse 2

Remember, Lord, Thy works of old,
The wonders that our fathers told;
Remember not our sin’s dark stain;
Give peace, O God, give peace again.

Verse 3

Whom shall we trust but Thee, O Lord?
Where rest but on Thy faithful word?
None ever called on Thee in vain;
Give peace, O God, give peace again.

Verse 4

Where saints and angels dwell above
All hearts are knit in holy love;
O bind us in that heavenly chain;
Give peace, O God, give peace again.

Henry W. Baker, “O God of Love, O King of Peace”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 664 · L.M. · Quebec

SS
My Country, 'Tis of Thee

Samuel F. Smith·Modern

Verse 1

My country, ’tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrim’s pride,
From every mountain side
Let freedom ring.

Verse 2

My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills;
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.

Verse 3

Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom’s song:
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.

Verse 4

Our fathers’ God, to Thee,
Author of liberty,
To Thee we sing:
Long may our land be bright
With freedom’s holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King.

Samuel F. Smith, “My Country, 'Tis of Thee”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 665 · 6.6.4.6.6.6.4. · America

11
God Bless Our Native Land

1st 5 ll. Rev. Charles T. Brooks, c. 1833: the remainder, Rev. John S. Dwight, 1844·Modern

Verse 1

God bless our native land;
Firm may she ever stand
Through storm and night:
When the wild tempests rave,
Ruler of wind and wave,
Do Thou our country save
By Thy great might.

Verse 2

For her our prayers shall rise
To God, above the skies:
On Him we wait;
Thou who art ever nigh,
Guarding with watchful eye,
To Thee aloud we cry,
God save the State.

Presbyterian 1895 No. 666 · 6.6.4.6.6.6.4. · (Dort)

Not yet anchored to a scripture passage

DR

Verse 1

God of our fathers, whose almighty hand
Leads forth in beauty all the starry band
Of shining worlds in splendor through the skies,
Our grateful songs before Thy throne arise.

Verse 2

Thy love Divine hath led us in the past;
In this free land by Thee our lot is cast;
Be Thou our Ruler, Guardian, Guide, and Stay;
Thy word our law, Thy paths our chosen way.

Verse 3

From war’s alarms, from deadly pestilence,
Be Thy strong arm our ever sure defence;
Thy true religion in our hearts increase,
Thy bounteous goodness nourish us in peace.

Verse 4

Refresh Thy people on their toilsome way,
Lead us from night to never-ending day;
Fill all our lives with love and grace Divine,
And glory, laud, and praise be ever Thine.

Daniel C. Roberts, “God of Our Fathers, Whose Almighty Hand”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 667 · 10.10.10.10. · National Hymn

WH
To Thee, Our God, We Fly

William W. How·Modern

Verse 1

To Thee, our God, we fly
For mercy and for grace:
O hear our lowly cry,
And hide not Thou Thy face:
O Lord, stretch forth Thy mighty hand,
And guard and bless our fatherland.

Verse 2

Arise, O Lord of hosts;
Be jealous for Thy Name,
And drive from out our coasts
The sins that put to shame:
O Lord, stretch forth Thy mighty hand,
And guard and bless our fatherland.

Verse 3

Thy best gifts from on high
In rich abundance pour,
That we may magnify
And praise Thee more and more:
O Lord, stretch forth Thy mighty hand,
And guard and bless our fatherland.

Verse 4

The powers ordained by Thee
With heavenly wisdom bless;
May they Thy servants be,
And rule in righteousness:
O Lord, stretch forth Thy mighty hand,
And guard and bless our fatherland.

Verse 5

The Church of Thy dear Son
Inflame with love’s pure fire;
Bind her once more in one,
And life and truth inspire:
O Lord, stretch forth Thy mighty hand,
And guard and bless our fatherland.

Verse 6

Give peace, Lord, in our time;
O let no foe draw nigh,
Nor lawless deed of crime
Insult Thy Majesty:
O Lord, stretch forth Thy mighty hand,
And guard and bless our fatherland.

William W. How, “To Thee, Our God, We Fly”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 668 · 6.6.6.6.8.8. · Witherspoon

Verse 1

Great King of nations, hear our prayer,
While at Thy feet we fall,
And humbly, with united cry,
To Thee for mercy call.

Verse 2

The guilt is ours, but grace is Thine,
O turn us not away;
But hear us from Thy lofty throne,
And help us when we pray.

Verse 3

Our fathers’ sins were manifold,
And ours no less our own,
Yet wondrously from age to age
Thy goodness hath been shown.

Verse 4

When dangers, like a stormy sea,
Beset our country round,
To Thee we looked, to Thee we cried,
And help in Thee was found.

Verse 5

With one consent we meekly bow
Beneath Thy chastening hand,
And, pouring forth confession meet,
Mourn with our mourning land.

Verse 6

With pitying eye behold our need,
As thus we lift our prayer;
Correct us with Thy judgments, Lord,
Then let Thy mercy spare.

John H. Gurney, “Great King of Nations, Hear Our Prayer”

Presbyterian 1895 No. 669 · C.M. · Mear

Verse 1

God the All-terrible! King, who ordainest
Great winds Thy clarions, the lightnings Thy sword,
Show forth Thy pity on high where Thou reignest;
Give to us peace in our time, O Lord.

Verse 2

God the Omnipotent! Mighty Avenger,
Watching invisible, judging unheard,
Save us in mercy, O save us from danger;
Give to us peace in our time, O Lord.

Verse 3

God the All-merciful! Earth hath forsaken
Thy ways of blessedness, slighted Thy word;
Bid not Thy wrath in its terrors awaken;
Give to us peace in our time, O Lord.

Verse 4

So shall Thy children, in thankful devotion,
Laud Him who saved them from peril abhorred;
Singing in chorus, from ocean to ocean,
Peace to the nations, and praise to the Lord.

Presbyterian 1895 No. 670 · 11.10.11.9. · Russian Hymn

SS
My Country, 'Tis of Thee

Samuel F. Smith·Modern

Verse 1

My country, ’tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my fathers died,
Land of the pilgrim’s pride,
From every mountain side
Let freedom ring.

Verse 2

My native country, thee,
Land of the noble free,
Thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
Thy woods and templed hills;
My heart with rapture thrills
Like that above.

Verse 3

Let music swell the breeze,
And ring from all the trees
Sweet freedom’s song:
Let mortal tongues awake;
Let all that breathe partake;
Let rocks their silence break,
The sound prolong.

Verse 4

Our fathers’ God, to Thee,
Author of liberty,
To Thee we sing:
Long may our land be bright
With freedom’s holy light;
Protect us by Thy might,
Great God, our King.

Gospel Hymns 1895 No. 738 · 6.6.4.6.6.6.4. · America