I usually sing around 9 or more hymns a week, mostly chosen by myself. Because I seek to keep the diet quite varied I'm always coming across hymns old and new that I think are real gems. I've often thought of putting one up here week by week with a little info alongside. The trouble is that starting a series is easier than carrying on so we'll see.This week it's by Christopher Wordsworth (1807-1885). Cyberhymnal gives several alternative tunes. Christopher was the poet William's nephew and an Anglican. A scholar and athlete in his student days he later served as headmaster of Harrow Boys School (1836-1850). He was also Vicar at Stanford-in-the-Vale, Berks (1850-1869) and Archdeacon of Westminster, and became Bishop of Lincoln in 1868. A recognised Greek scholar, he also wrote theological and other works. He wisely said, “It is the first duty of a hymn to teach sound doctrine and thence to save souls” which his hymns do. Cyberhymnal features 17 of them. I guess he was high church. I especially like the second verse of this one. We don't have verses 3 and 4 in our hymn book (New Christian Hymns).
There's a brief biography at wikipedia.
O day of rest and gladness, O day of joy and light,
O balm of care and sadness, most beautiful, most bright:
On Thee, the high and lowly, through ages joined in tune,
Sing holy, holy, holy, to the great God Triune.
On Thee, at the creation, the light first had its birth;
On Thee, for our salvation, Christ rose from depths of earth;
On Thee, our Lord, victorious, the Spirit sent from heaven,
And thus on Thee, most glorious, a triple light was given.
Thou art a port, protected from storms that round us rise;
A garden, intersected with streams of paradise;
Thou art a cooling fountain in life’s dry, dreary sand;
From thee, like Pisgah’s mountain, we view our promised land.
Thou art a holy ladder, where angels go and come;
Each Sunday finds us gladder, nearer to heaven, our home;
A day of sweet reflection, thou art a day of love,
A day of resurrection from earth to things above.
Today on weary nations the heavenly manna falls;
To holy convocations the silver trumpet calls,
Where Gospel light is glowing with pure and radiant beams,
And living water flowing, with soul refreshing streams.
New graces ever gaining from this our day of rest,
We reach the rest remaining to spirits of the blessed.
To Holy Ghost be praises, to Father, and to Son;
The church her voice upraises to Thee, blessed Three in One.
O day of rest and gladness, O day of joy and light,
O balm of care and sadness, most beautiful, most bright:
On Thee, the high and lowly, through ages joined in tune,
Sing holy, holy, holy, to the great God Triune.
On Thee, at the creation, the light first had its birth;
On Thee, for our salvation, Christ rose from depths of earth;
On Thee, our Lord, victorious, the Spirit sent from heaven,
And thus on Thee, most glorious, a triple light was given.
Thou art a port, protected from storms that round us rise;
A garden, intersected with streams of paradise;
Thou art a cooling fountain in life’s dry, dreary sand;
From thee, like Pisgah’s mountain, we view our promised land.
Thou art a holy ladder, where angels go and come;
Each Sunday finds us gladder, nearer to heaven, our home;
A day of sweet reflection, thou art a day of love,
A day of resurrection from earth to things above.
Today on weary nations the heavenly manna falls;
To holy convocations the silver trumpet calls,
Where Gospel light is glowing with pure and radiant beams,
And living water flowing, with soul refreshing streams.
New graces ever gaining from this our day of rest,
We reach the rest remaining to spirits of the blessed.
To Holy Ghost be praises, to Father, and to Son;
The church her voice upraises to Thee, blessed Three in One.
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