Skip to main content

Category: music

Hymn of the Week – Purer in Heart

Mashkioya Leave a comment

Poetry: Fannie Davison (1877)
Music: James Fillmore, Sr.
Sheet music
Audio recording

Purer in heart, O God, help me to be;
May I devote my life wholly to Thee:
Watch Thou my wayward feet,
Guide me with counsel sweet;
Purer in heart, help me to be.

Purer in heart, O God, help me to be;
Teach me to do Thy will most lovingly;
Be Thou my friend and guide,
Let me with Thee abide;
Purer in heart, help me to be.

Purer in heart, O God, help me to be;
That I Thy holy face one day may see:
Keep me from secret sin,
Reign Thou my soul within;
Purer in heart, help me to be.

Hymn of the Week – The Gospel Is for All

Mashkioya Leave a comment

Poetry by John McCaleb (1921)
Music arranged by Rigdon McIntosh
CyberHymnal entry

Of one the Lord has made the race,
Through one has come the fall;
Where sin has gone must go His grace;
The gospel is for all.

The blessèd gospel is for all,
The gospel is for all;
Where sin has gone must go His grace:
The gospel is for all.

Say not the heathen are at home,
Beyond we have no call,
For why should we be blest alone?
The gospel is for all.

Received ye freely, freely give,
From every land they call;
Unless they hear, they cannot live:
The gospel is for all.

Evening Song

Mashkioya Leave a comment

Faintly the voices are flying to me;
Fragments and snatches fall here and fall there.
Shall I draw nearer, or will the song flee?

Pines of the forest are dark, yet I see
The light of a fire, all blazing and fair—
Faintly the voices are flying to me.

Strange is the melody, wild, and free,
Chanting of happiness, love, and despair.
Shall I draw nearer, or will the song flee?

Softly I steal through the dim-lighted lea,
Earnestly seeking that uncanny air.
Faintly the voices are flying to me.

Almost I catch it; again it breaks free.
What is this song, so familiar, so rare?
Shall I draw nearer, or will the song flee?

Finally I break through, the brightness I see!
Then blackness, and silence, and nothing is there.
Faintly the voices are flying to me:
Shall I draw nearer, or will the song flee?