Origins of Songs

[Dr. Bob]

Satisfied

Clara Tear Williams was born September 22, 1858, near Painesville Lake, Ohio.

Williams served as pas­tor of a Wes­ley­an Meth­od­ist church in In­di­ana, Penn­syl­van­ia, not marrying until nearly 40. She be­came a cir­cuit rid­ing preach­er for the Pine Grove circuit, an un­com­mon po­si­tion for a wo­man at the time. She served that circuit five years, preach­ing in the towns of Dix­on­ville, Hills­dale, Rich Hill, and Spruce. She lat­er helped Mary DePew con­duct evan­gel­ism cam­paigns in In­di­ana, Mich­i­gan and Ohio.

She mar­ried W. Williams in May 1895, and con­tinued to work as an evan­gel­ist. From 1900 to 1920, she and her hus­band co-pas­tored Wes­ley­an church­es in Penn­syl­van­ia and Ohio. She died July 1, 1937, and is buried in Houghton, New York.

This song was her life story/testimony set to music.

All my life I had a longing
For a drink from some clear spring,
That I hoped would quench the burning
Of the thirst I felt within.

Refrain
Hallelujah! I have found Him
Whom my soul so long has craved!
Jesus satisfies my longings,
Through His blood I now am saved.

Feeding on the husks around me,
Till my strength was almost gone,
Longed my soul for something better,
Only still to hunger on.

Poor I was, and sought for riches,
Something that would satisfy,
But the dust I gathered round me
Only mocked my soul’s sad cry.

Well of water, ever springing,
Bread of life so rich and free,
Untold wealth that never faileth,
My Redeemer is to me.

 

[Dr. Bob]

Evening Prayer

While James Edmeston composed the first 3 stanzas in 1820, stan­zas 4-5 were added by Edward H. Bick­er­steth in 1876. The hymn became a popular song of many as a beautiful evening prayer for God's watchcare through the night.

No one knew that dur­ing the Box­er out­break in Chi­na, a com­pa­ny of be­lea­guered mis­sion­ar­ies who had ga­thered to­ge­ther one night in great fear lest they should have to suf­fer the fate of so ma­ny who were giv­ing up their lives ra­ther than de­ny their Lord. The fol­low­ing ac­count of the sing­ing is fur­nished by Miss Helen Knox Strain, one of the mis­sion­ar­ies pre­sent that night.

“The Woman’s Un­ion Mis­sion­ary So­ci­e­ty has a mag­ni­fi­cent work just out­side of the ci­ty of Shang­hai. No harm had come to us up to this time, but ser­i­ous threats and un­plea­sant ru­mors were rife; we dared not so much as put our heads out at night, though for­ty lit­tle sol­dier-men played at keep­ing us safe. Our mis­sion­ar­ies have two cen­ters at that place, and the they meet oft­en for pray­er and con­sult­a­tion. At this par­ti­cu­lar time the ru­mors were so fright­ful, and the threats to burn our homes that ve­ry night so dis­tress­ing, that we had a mem­or­a­ble meet­ing. Sep­a­rat­ed from home and friends, fac­ing death in a far-off land, and full of ten­der­est feel­ing, we lift­ed our hearts in song…

“Out of the storm each soul, re­new­ing its strength, mount­ed up with wings as ea­gles and found peace in the se­cret of His pre­sence.

“Our Sav­iour breathed, in ve­ry deed, an ‘even­ing bless­ing’ up­on us, the frag­rance of which re­mains ev­en un­to this day. The last verse of the hymn, ‘Should swift death this night o’er­take us,’ was omit­ted. It seemed too prob­a­ble it might. We want­ed on­ly to think of the safe-keep­ing, and such, thank God, it proved to be.”

Savior, breathe an evening blessing
Ere repose our spirits seal;
Sin and want we come confessing:
Thou canst save, and Thou canst heal.

Though destruction walk around us,
Though the arrow past us fly,
Angel guards from Thee surround us;
We are safe if Thou art nigh.

Though the night be dark and dreary,
Darkness cannot hide from Thee;
Thou art He who, never weary,
Watchest where Thy people be.

Should swift death this night o’ertake us,
And our couch become our tomb,
May the morn in heaven awake us,
Clad in light and deathless bloom.

Father, to thy holy keeping
Humbly we ourselves resign;
Savior, who hast slept our sleeping,
Make our slumbers pure as thine

Blessèd Spirit, brooding o’er us,
Chase the darkness of our night,
Till the perfect day before us
Breaks in everlasting light.

 

[Dr. Bob]

Servant of God, Well Done

In 1770, John Wes­ley composed this hymn on hearing of the death of his contemporary and great preacher, George White­field.

Servant of God, well done!
Thy glorious warfare’s past;
The battle’s fought, the race is won,
And thou art crowned at last.

Of all thy heart’s desire
Triumphantly possessed;
Lodged by the ministerial choir
In thy Redeemer’s breast.

In condescending love,
Thy ceaseless prayer He heard;
And bade thee suddenly remove
To thy complete reward.

Ready to bring the peace,
Thy beauteous feet were shod,
When mercy signed thy soul’s release,
And caught thee up to God.

With saints enthroned on high,
Thou dost thy Lord proclaim,
And still to God salvation cry,
Salvation to the Lamb!

O happy, happy soul!
In ecstasies of praise,
Long as eternal ages roll,
Thou seest Thy Savior’s face.

Redeemed from earth and pain,
Ah! when shall we ascend,
And all in Jesus’ presence reign
With our translated friend?

Come, Lord, and quickly come!
And, when in Thee complete,
Receive Thy longing servants home,
To triumph at Thy feet.

 

[Dr. Bob]

Shelter in the Time of Storm

Vernon Charles­worth served as co-pas­tor (with New­man Hall) of Sur­rey Cha­pel (1864-69), head­mas­ter of Charles Spur­geon’s Stock­well Or­phan­age (1869-1915), and a Min­is­ter­ing El­der of Spurg­eon’s Me­tro­pol­i­tan Ta­ber­na­cle. He wrote numerous songs beloved by the common working class as well as his charges in the orphanage.

Ira Sankey wrote: "I found this hymn in a small paper published in London . . and it was said to be a fav­o­rite song of the fish­er­man on the north coast of Eng­land, and they were oft­en heard sing­ing it as they ap­proached their har­bors in the time of storm. As the hymn was set to weird minor tune, I decided to compose one that would be more practical, one that could be more easily sung by the people."

The Lord’s our Rock, in Him we hide,
A Shelter in the time of storm;
Secure whatever ill betide,
A Shelter in the time of storm.

Refrain
Oh, Jesus is a Rock in a weary land,
A weary land, a weary land;
Oh, Jesus is a Rock in a weary land,
A Shelter in the time of storm.

A shade by day, defense by night,
A Shelter in the time of storm;
No fears alarm, no foes afright,
A Shelter in the time of storm.

The raging storms may round us beat,
A Shelter in the time of storm
We’ll never leave our safe retreat,
A Shelter in the time of storm.

O Rock divine, O Refuge dear,
A Shelter in the time of storm;
Be Thou our Helper ever near,
A Shelter in the time of storm.

 

[Dr. Bob]

Shepherd of Eager Youth

Ti­tus Fla­vi­us Cle­mens (known to church historians as Cle­ment of Al­ex­an­dria) composed this hymn about 200 CE. It was trans­lat­ed from Greek to Eng­lish in 1846, but is prob­ab­ly the old­est Christ­ian hymn whose au­thor is known!

Shepherd of tender youth, guiding in love and truth
Through devious ways; Christ our triumphant King,
We come Thy Name to sing and here our children bring
To join Thy praise.

Thou art our holy Lord, O all subduing Word,
Healer of strife. Thou didst Thyself abase
That from sin’s deep disgrace Thou mightest save our race
And give us life.

Thou art the great High Priest; Thou hast prepared the feast
Of holy love; and in our mortal pain,
None calls on Thee in vain; Help Thou dost not disdain,
Help from above.

Ever be Thou our guide, our shepherd and our pride,
Our staff and song; Jesus, Thou Christ of God,
By Thine enduring Word lead us where Thou hast trod,
Make our faith strong.

So now, and till we die, sound we Thy praises high
And joyful sing; infants and the glad throng
Who to Thy church belong, unite to swell the song
To Christ, our King.

 

[Dr. Bob]

Since Jesus Came Into My Heart

Rufus H. McDaniel, who had been ordained at 19 and served God as pastor in Ohio for many years, wrote these words after the death of his son in 1914. He asked Charles H. Gabriel to write an uplifting melody rather than a mournful dirge, focusing on the JOY in the Lord, not the grief.

What a wonderful change in my life has been wrought
Since Jesus came into my heart!
I have light in my soul for which long I had sought,
Since Jesus came into my heart!

Refrain
Since Jesus came into my heart,
Since Jesus came into my heart,
Floods of joy o’er my soul
Like the sea billows roll,
Since Jesus came into my heart.

I have ceased from my wandering and going astray,
Since Jesus came into my heart!
And my sins, which were many, are all washed away,
Since Jesus came into my heart!

I’m possessed of a hope that is steadfast and sure,
Since Jesus came into my heart!
And no dark clouds of doubt now my pathway obscure,
Since Jesus came into my heart!

There’s a light in the valley of death now for me,
Since Jesus came into my heart!
And the gates of the City beyond I can see,
Since Jesus came into my heart!

I shall go there to dwell in that City, I know,
Since Jesus came into my heart!
And I’m happy, so happy, as onward I go,
Since Jesus came into my heart!

 

[Dr. Bob]

Softly and Tenderly

Will L. Thomp­son was rebuffed in an early attempt to sell his songs to a commercial publisher, so he start­ed his own pub­lish­ing com­pa­ny. He lat­er ex­pand­ed, open­ing a store to sell pi­an­os, or­gans and sheet mu­sic.

When evan­gel­ist Dwight Moo­dy was on his death­bed, he told Thomp­son:

"Will, I would ra­ther have writ­ten Soft­ly and Ten­der­ly Je­sus is Call­ing than an­y­thing I have been able to do in my whole life."

(This hymn was sung in the 1985 Academy Award winning movie, “Trip to Bountiful.”)

Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling for you and for me;
See, on the portals He’s waiting and watching,
Watching for you and for me.

Refrain
Come home, come home,
You who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!

Why should we tarry when Jesus is pleading,
Pleading for you and for me?
Why should we linger and heed not His mercies,
Mercies for you and for me?

Time is now fleeting, the moments are passing,
Passing from you and from me;
Shadows are gathering, deathbeds are coming,
Coming for you and for me.

O for the wonderful love He has promised,
Promised for you and for me!
Though we have sinned, He has mercy and pardon,
Pardon for you and for me.

 

[Dr. Bob]

The Stranger of Galilee

Leila Morris was ac­tive in the Meth­od­ist church, camp meet­ings, and song writ­ing, au­thor­ing more than 1,000 Gospel songs. When her eyes be­gan to fail in 1913, her son built a 28-foot black­board with over­sized staff lines, so she could con­tin­ue com­pos­ing. This is one of the songs written in the twilight years of her prolific life.

Other songs include:
Bring Your Vessels, Not a Few,
Can the World See Jesus in You?
Crown Him
The Fight Is On
For a Worldwide Revival
For the Whole Wide World
Fully Surrendered
His Grace Is Sufficient for Me
Holiness unto the Lord
I Know God’s Promise is True
Let Jesus Come into Your Heart
Nearer, Still Nearer
Sweeter as the Years Go By
O Magnify the Lord with Me
Sanctifying Power
Sweet Will of God
There’s Only One Way
’Tis Marvelous and Wonderful
What a Savior Is Mine!
What if It Were Today?

In fancy I stood by the shore, one day,
Of the beautiful murm’ring sea;
I saw the great crowds as they thronged the way
Of the Stranger of Galilee;
I saw how the man who was blind from birth,
In a moment was made to see;
The lame was made whole by the matchless skill
Of the Stranger of Galilee.

Refrain
And I felt I could love Him forever,
So gracious and tender was He!
I claimed Him that day as my Savior,
This Stranger of Galilee.

His look of compassion, His words of love,
They shall never forgotten be;
When sin sick and helpless He saw me there,
This Stranger of Galilee;
He showed me His hand and His riven side,
And He whispered, “It was for thee!”
My burden fell off at the piercèd feet
Of the Stranger from Galilee.

I heard Him speak peace to the angry waves,
Of that turbulent, raging sea;
And lo! at His word are the waters stilled,
This Stranger of Galilee;
A peaceful, a quiet, and holy calm,
Now and ever abides with me;
He holdeth my life in His mighty hands,
This Stranger of Galilee.

Come ye who are driven, and tempest tossed,
And His gracious salvation see;
He’ll quiet life’s storms with His “Peace, be still!”
This Stranger of Galilee;
He bids me to go and the story tell—
What He ever to you will be,
If only you let Him with you abide,
This Stranger of Galilee.

Oh, my friend, won’t you love Him forever?
So gracious and tender is He!
Accept Him today as your Savior,
This Stranger of Galilee.

 

[Dr. Bob]

Tell Mother I'll Be There

Charles M. Fillmore wrote this song up­on read­ing of the death of the mo­ther of Amer­i­can pre­si­dent Wil­liam Mc­Kinley.

Mc­Kinley had a spe­cial re­la­tion­ship with his mo­ther, who was ve­ry proud of him; in his youth, she boast­ed he would be­come a Me­thod­ist bi­shop (lit­tle did she know he would go some­what far­ther). When “Mo­ther Mc­Kin­ley” fell ill in the win­ter of 1897, she lived some dis­tance from the cap­i­tal, so the pre­si­dent had a spe­cial tel­e­graph line in­stalled be­tween Wash­ing­ton and her home town. When word fi­nal­ly came of her im­pend­ing death, he quick­ly wired back, “Tell mo­ther I’ll be there!”

Personal note from Dr. Bob: I started preaching in rescue missions in 1965 and used this every service. All of the drunks and prostitutes that frequented the soup kitchen could relate to the lyrics of “Tell Mo­ther I’ll Be There”. The aisles would be flooded with weeping men and women.

When I was but a little child how well I recollect
How I would grieve my mother with my folly and neglect;
And now that she has gone to Heav’n I miss her tender care:
O Savior, tell my mother, I’ll be there!

Refrain
Tell mother I’ll be there, in answer to her prayer;
This message, blessèd Savior, to her bear!
Tell mother I’ll be there, Heav’n’s joys with her to share;
Yes, tell my darling mother I’ll be there.

Though I was often wayward, she was always kind and good;
So patient, gentle, loving when I acted rough and rude;
My childhood griefs and trials she would gladly with me share:
O Savior, tell my mother, I’ll be there!

When I became a prodigal, and left the old rooftree,
She almost broke her loving heart in mourning after me;
And day and night she prayed to God to keep me in His care:
O Savior, tell my mother, I’ll be there!

One day a message came to me, it bade me quickly come
If I would see my mother ere the Savior took her home;
I promised her, before she died, for heaven to prepare:
O Savior, tell my mother, I’ll be there!

 

[Dr. Bob]

THIS IS MY FATHER'S WORLD

While a pas­tor in Lock­port, New York, in 1901 Malt­bie D. Bab­cock liked to hike in an ar­ea called “the es­carp­ment,” an an­cient up­thrust ledge near Lock­port. It has a mar­vel­ous view of farms, or­chards, and Lake On­tar­io, about 15 miles dis­tant. It is said those walks in the woods in­spired these lyr­ics. The ti­tle re­calls an ex­press­ion Bab­cock used when start­ing a walk: “I’m go­ing out to see my Fa­ther’s world.”

This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world: why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King; let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let the earth be glad!

This is my Father’s world, dreaming, I see His face.
I ope my eyes, and in glad surprise cry, “The Lord is in this place.”
This is my Father’s world, from the shining courts above,
The Beloved One, His Only Son,
Came—a pledge of deathless love.

This is my Father’s world, should my heart be ever sad?
The lord is King—let the heavens ring. God reigns—let the earth be glad.
This is my Father’s world. Now closer to Heaven bound,
For dear to God is the earth Christ trod.
No place but is holy ground.

This is my Father’s world. I walk a desert lone.
In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze God makes His glory known.
This is my Father’s world, a wanderer I may roam
Whate’er my lot, it matters not,
My heart is still at home.

 

[Dr. Bob]

THROW OUT THE LIFE-LINE

In 1888, Ed­win S. Uf­ford, 1888 was inspired to pen these words from a life sav­ing drill he ob­served at Point Al­ler­ton, near Bo­ston, Mass­a­chu­setts. He wrote the words and mu­sic short­ly af­ter re­turn­ing home.

Throw out the life line across the dark wave;
There is a brother whom someone should save;
Somebody’s brother! O who then will dare
To throw out the life line, his peril to share?

Refrain
Throw out the life line! Throw out the life line!
Someone is drifting away;
Throw out the life line! Throw out the life line!
Someone is sinking today.

Throw out the life line with hand quick and strong:
Why do you tarry, why linger so long?
See! he is sinking; oh, hasten today
And out with the life boat! away, then away!

Throw out the life line to danger fraught men,
Sinking in anguish where you’ve never been;
Winds of temptation and billows of woe
Will soon hurl them out where the dark waters flow.

Soon will the season of rescue be o’er,
Soon will they drift to eternity’s shore;
Haste, then, my brother, no time for delay,
But throw out the life line and save them today.

This is the life line, oh, tempest tossed men;
Baffled by waves of temptation and sin;
Wild winds of passion, your strength cannot brave,
But Jesus is mighty, and Jesus can save.

Jesus is able! To you who are driv’n,
Farther and farther from God and from Heav’n;
Helpless and hopeless, o’erwhelmed by the wave;
We throw out the life line, ’tis “Jesus can save.”

This is the life line, oh, grasp it today!
See, you are recklessly drifting away;
Voices in warning, shout over the wave,
O grasp the strong life line, for Jesus can save.

 

[Dr. Bob]

TRUST AND OBEY

The ti­tle ex­press­ion was used in a test­i­mo­ny meet­ing, fol­low­ing an evan­gel­is­tic cru­sade in Brock­ton, Mass­a­chu­setts, by Dwight L. Mo­ody. A young man stood to speak, and it soon be­came clear he knew lit­tle Christ­ian doc­trine. But he fin­ished by say­ing, “I’m not quite sure—but I’m go­ing to trust, and I’m go­ing to obey.” Dan­iel Town­er, who was in the meet­ing, jot­ted down the words, and gave them to John Sam­mis, who de­vel­oped the lyr­ics from them.

When we walk with the Lord in the light of His Word,
What a glory He sheds on our way!
While we do His good will, He abides with us still,
And with all who will trust and obey.

Refrain
Trust and obey, for there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.

Not a shadow can rise, not a cloud in the skies,
But His smile quickly drives it away;
Not a doubt or a fear, not a sigh or a tear,
Can abide while we trust and obey.

Not a burden we bear, not a sorrow we share,
But our toil He doth richly repay;
Not a grief or a loss, not a frown or a cross,
But is blessed if we trust and obey.

But we never can prove the delights of His love
Until all on the altar we lay;
For the favor He shows, for the joy He bestows,
Are for them who will trust and obey.

Then in fellowship sweet we will sit at His feet.
Or we’ll walk by His side in the way.
What He says we will do, where He sends we will go;
Never fear, only trust and obey.

 

[Joshua Rhodes]

Angels From the Realms of Glory
1816 A.D.

Like all Moravians, John Montgomery had a burden for world evangelism. He was the only Moravian pastor in Scotland, but he and his wife felt God's call to be missionaries to the island of Barbados. Tearfully placing their six-year-old son, James, in a Moravian settlement in Bracehill near Ballymena, County Antrim, Ireland, they sailed away. James never saw them again, for they perished in Barbados.

Left with nothing, James was enrolled in a school in England. When he didn't do well, he was apprenticed by school authorities to a baker. Baking wasn't for James. He ran away and spent his teenage years drifting from pillar to post, writing poetry and trying his hand at one thing or another. He eventually settled down in Sheffield, England.

In his early twenties, James began working for the local newspaper, the Sheffield Register, and there found his niche. He loved writing. It was a politically active newspaper, and when its owner had to suddenly flee the country to avoid persecution and imprisonment, James purchased the paper and renamed it the Sheffield Iris. His editorials, too, proved unpopular with local officials. On two separate occasions he was thrown into jail. But he emerged from prison a celebrity, and he used his newly acquired fame to promote his favorite issues.

Chief among them was the gospel. Despite the loss of his parents, James Montgomery remained devoted to Christ and to the Scriptures, and he championed the cause of foreign missions and of the British Bible Society.

As the years passed, he became the most respected leader in Sheffield, and his writings were eagerly read by its citizens. Early on Christmas Eve, 1816, James, 45, opened his Bible to Luke 2, and was deeply impressed by verse 13. Pondering the story of the heralding angels, he took his pen and started writing. By the end of the day, his new Christmas poem was being read in the pages of his newspaper. It was later set to music and was first sung on Christmas Day, 1821, in a Moravian Church in England: "Angels From the Realms of Glory."

His parents would have been proud.

 

[Joshua Rhodes]

Silent Night
1818 A.D.

It was Christmas Eve in the Austrian Alps. At the newly constructed Church of St. Nicholas in Oberndorf, a Tyrol village near Salzburg, Father Joseph Mohr prepared for the midnight service. He was distraught because the church organ was broken, ruining prospects for that evening's carefully planned music. But Father Joseph was about to learn that out problems are God's opportunities, that the Lord causes all things to work together for good to those who love Him. It came to Father Joseph's mind to write a new song, one that could be sung organless. Hastily, he wrote the words, "Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright..." Taking the text to his organist, Franz Gruber, he explained the situation and asked Franz to compose a simple tune.

That night, December 24, 1818, "Silent Night" was sung for the first time as a duet accompanied by a guitar at the aptly named Church of St. Nicholas in Oberndorf.

Shortly afterward, as Karl Mauracher came to repair the organ, he heard about the near-disaster on Christmas Eve. Acquiring a copy of the text and tune, he spread it throughout the Alpine region of Austria, referring to it a "Tiroler Volkslied."

The song came to the attention of the Strasser Family, makers of fine chamois-skin gloves. To drum up business at various fairs and festivals, the four Strasser children would sing in front of their parent's booth. Like the Von Trapp children a century later, they became popular folk singers throughout the Alps.

When the children - Caroline, Joseph, Andreas, and Amalie - began singing, "Trioler Volkslied" at their performances, audiences were charmed. It seemed perfect for the snow-clad region, and perfect for the Christian heart. "Silent Night" even came to the attention of the king and queen, and the Strasser children were asked to give a royal performance, assuring the carol's fame.

"Silent Night" was first published for congregational singing in 1838 in the German hymnboook, Katholisches Gesang - und Gebetbuch fur den offenlichen und hauslichen Gottesdienst zunauchst zum Gebrauche der katholischen Gereinden im Konigreiche Sachsen. It was used in America by German-speaking congregations, then appeared in its current English form in a book of Sunday school songs in 1863.

Were it not for a broken organ, there would never have been a "Silent Night."

 

[Bethelassoc]

What I find interesting about these old songs is the origin of their tunes. Some of the songs (in hymns with notes) use a tune that is roughly 100 years younger than the lyrics.

It would be interesting to know what tunes were used at the time when some of the songs were written.

Ex:

"Guide Me O Thou Great Jehovah" was written around 1745, the tune that I am familiar with, and that the Old Regular Baptists, etc, still use is "Adew Dundee" or "Bonny Dundee", a Scottish ballad tune from around 1620.

 

[Joshua Rhodes]

Good King Wenceslas
1854 A.D.

This story is about two men - a Bohemian Duke and an Anglican minister - who lived nearly a thousand years apart.

Wenceslas was bron in Bohemia, in modern Czechoslavakia, in the early 900s. His father, the Czech ruler, Duke Ratislav, gave him a good education supervised by his godly grandmother. When his father died, Wenceslas, seeing his mother mishandle affairs of state, stepped in at age 18, seizing the reins of government. From the beginning, he proved a different sort of king. He sought good relations with surrounding nations, particularly with Germany. He took steps to reform the judicial system, reducing the number of death sentences and the arbitrary power of judges. He encouraged the building of churches and showed heartfelt concern for the poor. He reportedly cut firewood for orphans and widows, often carrying the provisions on his own shoulders through the snow.

Wenceslas' brief reign ended suddenly. His pagan and rebellious brother, Boleslav, murdered him on September 28, 929, as he left for church. His people venerated him as a martyr, and today Wenceslas is the patron saint of Czechoslovakia.

He would be hardly remembered, however, but for John Mason Neale, an Anglican minister witha passion for returning church architecture and music to their ancient grandeur. Neale helped establish a committee to investigate and restore dilapidated church buildings in Great Britain. He was particularly upset at the ugly stoves installed to heat churches in Victorian times.

Disliking the hymns of Isaac Watts, he also sought to return church music to its medieval roots. Neale worked hard to translate ancient Greek, Latin and Syrian hymns into English. In so doing, he gave us the Christmas carols, 'Good Christian Men, Rejoice," (a fourteenth century test set to a fourteenth century tune), and "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," (a ninth century text set to a fifteenth century tune). He also translated the Palm Sunday hymn "All Glory, Laud and Honor."

Good King Wenceslas is not a translation, but an original poem written by Neale to honor a godly monarch's concern for the poor. Neale himself worked with the needy, serving as a warden of a charitable residence for indigent old men.

John Neale's antiquated opinions were widely scorned in his own day, but we're still singing his songs.

 

[Joshua Rhodes]

What a Friend We Have in Jesus
1855 A.D.

Joseph Scriven watched in shock as the body of his fiancee' was pulled from the lake. Their wedding had been planned for the next day. Reeling from the tragedy, he made up his mind to immigrate to America. Packing up his belongings in Dublin, Ireland, he sailed for Canada, leaving his mother behind. He was about 25 years old.

Ten years later, in 1855, he received word that his mother was facing a crisis. Joseph wrote this poem and sent it to her. Mrs. Scriven evidently gave a copy to a friend who had it published anonymously, and it quickly became a popular hymn, though no one knew who had written it.

Meanwhile, Joseph fell in love again. But tragedy struck a second time when his bride, Eliza Catherine Roche, contracted tuberculosis and died in 1860 before their wedding could take place.

To escape his sorrow, Joseph poured himself into ministry, doing charity work for the Plymouth Brethren and preaching among the Baptists. He lived a simple, obscure life in Port Hope, Canada, cutting firewood for widows, giving away his clothes and money to those in need. He was described as "a man of short stature, with iron-gray hair, close-cropped beard, and light blue eyes that sparkled when he talked." Ira Sankey later wrote:

Until a short time before his death it was not known that he had a poetic gift. A neighbor, sitting up with him in his illness, happened upon a manuscript copy of "What a Friend We Have in Jesus." Reading it with great delight and questioning Mr. Scriven about it, he said that he had composed it for his mother, to comfort her in a time of special sorrow, not intending that anyone else should see it. Some time later, when another Port Hope neighbor asked him if it was true he composed the hymn, his reply was, "The Lord and I did it between us."

On October 10, 1896, Joseph became critically ill. In his delirium, he rose from his bed and staggered outdoors where he fell into a small creek and drwoned at age 66. His grave was arranged so that his feet were opposite those of his lost love, Eliza Catherine Roche, that at the resurrection they might arise facing one another.

 

[Aaron]

Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring

Words: Martin Janus 1620-1682
Music: J.S. Bach

Jesus, Joy of our desiring,
holy wisdom, love most bright;
drawn by thee, our souls aspiring
soar to uncreated light.
Work of God, our flesh that fashioned,
with the fire of life impassioned,
striving still to truth unknown,
soaring, dying round the throne.

Through the way where hope is guiding,
hark, what peaceful music rings;
where the flock, in thee confiding,
drink of joy from deathless springs.
Theirs is beauty's fairest pleasure;
theirs is wisdom's holiest treasure.
Thou dost ever lead thine own
in the love of joys unknown.

Does anyone know the story behind these lyrics?

 

[Aaron]

The music for the above hymn was written by Johann Schop. Bach's arrangement is the one we're used to.

 

[Joshua Rhodes]

I'm sorry, Aaron, I don't have the origin for that one in my stuff... I'll try to do some research.