The Story of the Hymns and Tunes Part 51

Ruler of wind and wave, Do Thou our country save By Thy great might!

For her our prayer shall rise To G.o.d above the skies; On Him we wait.

Thou who art ever nigh, Guarding with watchful eye; To Thee aloud we cry, G.o.d save the State!

The tune of "Dort," by Lowell Mason, has long been the popular melody for this hymn. Indeed the two were united by Mason himself. It is braver music than "America," and would have carried Dr. Smith's hymn n.o.bly, but the borrowed tune, on the whole, better suits "My Country 'tis of thee,"--and besides, it has the advantage of a middle-register harmony easy for a mult.i.tude of voices.

"THOU, TOO, SAIL ON, O s.h.i.+P OF STATE,"

The closing canto of Longfellow's "Launching of the s.h.i.+p," almost deserves a patriotic hymn-tune, though its place and use are commonly with school recitations.

"G.o.d OF OUR FATHERS, KNOWN OF OLD."

Rudyard Kipling, in a moment of serious reflection on the flamboyant militarism of British sentiment during the South African War, wrote this remarkable "Recessional," so strikingly unlike his other war-time poems.

It is to be hoped he did not suddenly repent his Christian impulse, but with the chauvinistic cry around him, "Our Country, right or wrong!" he seems to have felt the contrast of his prayer--and flung it into the waste-basket. His watchful wife rescued it (the story says) and bravely sent it to the London Times. The world owes her a debt. The hymn is not only an anthem for Peace Societies, but a tonic for true patriotism.

When Freedom fights in self-defense, she need not force herself to "forget" the Lord of Hosts.

G.o.d of our fathers, known of old, Lord of our far-flung battle-line, Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine; Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget.

The tumult and the shouting dies, The captains and the kings depart, Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart.

Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget.

Far-called, our navies melt away, On dune and headland sinks the fire; Lo all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre.

Judge of the nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget.

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe, Such boasting as the Gentiles use Or lesser breeds without the law, Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget, lest we forget.

For heathen heart that puts her trust, In recking tube and iron shard, All valiant dust that builds on dust And guarding, calls not Thee to guard, For frantic boast and foolish word Thy mercy on thy people, Lord!

Had Kipling cared more for his poem, and kept it longer in hand, he might have revised a line or two that would possibly seem commonplace to him--and corrected the grammar in the first line of the second stanza. But of so fine a composition there is no call for finical criticism. The "Recessional" is a product of the poet's holiest mood.

"The Spirit of the Lord came upon him"--as the old Hebrew phrase is, and for the time he was a rapt prophet, with a backward and a forward vision. Providence saved the hymn, and it touched and sank into the better mind of the nation. It is already learned by heart--and sung--wherever English is the common speech, and will be heard in numerous translations, with the wish that there were more patriotic hymns of the same Christian temper and strength.

Rudyard Kipling was born in Hindostan in 1865. Even with his first youthful experiments in the field of literature he was hailed as the coming apostle of muscular poetry and prose. For a time he made America his home, and it was while here that he faced death through a fearful and protracted sickness that brought him very near to G.o.d. He has visited many countries and described them all, and, though sometimes his imagination drives a reckless pen, the Christian world hopes much from a man whose genius can make the dullest souls listen.

_THE TUNE._

The music set to Kipling's hymn is Stainer's "Magdalen"--(not his "Magdalina," which is a common-metre tune)--and wonderfully fits the words and enhances their dignity. It is a grave and earnest melody in D flat, with two bars in unison at "Lord G.o.d of Hosts, be with us yet,"

making the utterance of the prayer a deep and powerful finale.

John Stainer, Doctor of Music, born June 6, 1840, was nine years the chorister of St. Paul's, London, and afterwards organist to the University of Oxford. He is a member of the various musical societies of the Kingdom, and a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. His talent for sacred music is rare and versatile, and he seems to have consecrated himself as a musician and composer to the service of the church.

Every civilized nation has its patriotic hymns. In fact what makes a nation a nation is largely the unifying influences of its common song.

Even the homeless Hebrew nation is kept together by its patriotic Psalms. The ethnic melodies would fill a volume with their story. The few presented in this chapter represent their range of quality and character--defiant as the Ma.r.s.eillaise, thrilling as "Scots' wha hae,"

joyful as "The Star-spangled Banner," breezy and bold as the "Ranz de Vaches," or sweet as the "Switzers' Song of Home."

CHAPTER X.

SAILORS' HYMNS.

The oldest sailors' hymn is found in the 107th Psalm, vss. 23-30:

They that go down to the sea in s.h.i.+ps, To do business in great waters, These see the works of the Lord, And His wonders in the deep, etc.

Montgomery has made this metrical rendering of these verses:

They that toil upon the deep, And in vessels light and frail O'er the mighty waters sweep With the billows and the gale,

Mark what wonders G.o.d performs When He speaks, and, unconfined, Rush to battle all His storms In the chariots of the wind.

The hymn is not in the collections, and has no tune. Addison paraphrased the succeeding verses of the Psalm in his hymn, "How are thy servants blessed O Lord," sung to Hugh Wilson's[35] tune of "Avon":

When by the dreadful tempest borne High on the broken wave, They know Thou art not slow to hear, Nor impotent to save.

The storm is laid, the winds retire, Obedient to Thy will; The sea that roars at Thy command, At Thy command is still.

[Footnote 35: Hugh Wilson was a Scotch weaver of Kilmarnock, born 1764; died 1824.]

"FIERCE WAS THE WILD BILLOW."

([Greek: Zopheras trik.u.mias])

The ancient writer, Anatolius, who composed this hymn has for centuries been confounded with "St" Anatolius, patriarch of Constantinople, who died A.D. 458. The author of the hymn lived in the seventh century, and except that he wrote several hymns, and also poems in praise of the martyrs, nothing or next to nothing, is known of him. The "Wild Billow"

song was the principle seaman's hymn of the early church. It is being introduced into modern psalmody, the translation in use ranking among the most successful of Dr. John Mason Neale's renderings from the Greek.

Fierce was the wild billow, Dark was the night; Oars labored heavily, Foam glimmered white; Trembled the mariners; Peril was nigh; Then said the G.o.d of G.o.d, "Peace! It is I!"

Ridge of the mountain wave, Lower thy crest!

Wall of Euroclydon, Be thou at rest!

Sorrow can never be, Darkness must fly, When saith the Light of Light, "Peace! It is I!"

_THE TUNE._

The desire to represent the antiquity of the hymn and the musical style of Its age, and on the other hand the wish to utilize it in the tune-manuals for Manners' Homes and Seamen's Bethels, makes a difficulty for composers to study--and the task is still open to compet.i.tion.

Considering the peculiar tone that sailors' singing instinctively takes--and has taken doubtless from time immemorial perhaps the plaintive melody of "Neale," by J.H. Cornell, comes as near to a vocal success as could be hoped. The music is of middle register and less than octave range, natural scale, minor, and the triple time lightens a little the dirge-like harmony while the weird sea-song effect is kept. A chorus of singing tars must create uncommon emotion, chanting this coronach of the storm.

John Henry Cornell was born in New York city, May 8, 1838, and was for many years organist at St. Paul's Chapel, Trinity Church. He is the author of numerous educational works on the theory and practice of music. He composed the above tune in 1872. Died March 1, 1894.

"AVE, MARIS STELLA."