Memories of Childhood's Slavery Days Part 5

Vast mountains rear their lofty heads, Rivers roll down their sandy beds; And all join in one grand acclaim To praise the Lord's almighty name.

MY FAVORITE HYMNS

The Ninety and Nine

There were ninety and nine that safely lay In the shelter of the fold, But one was out on the hills away, Far-off from the gates of gold-- Away on the mountains lone and bare, Away from the tender Shepherd's care.

"Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine: Are they not enough for Thee?"

But the Shepherd made answer: "This of mine Has wandered away from me, And, although the road be rough and steep, I go to the desert to find my sheep."

But none of the ransomed ever knew How deep were the waters crossed; Nor how dark was the night that the Lord pa.s.sed through Ere he found His sheep that was lost.

Out in the desert he heard the cry-- Sick and helpless, and ready to die.

"Lord, whence are those blood-drops all the way That mark out the mountain's track?"

"They were shed for one who had gone astray Ere the Shepherd could bring him back."

"Lord, whence are Thy hands so rent and torn?"

"They are pierced tonight by many a thorn."

But all through the mountains, thunder-riven, And up from the rocky steep, There arose a glad cry to the height of heaven, "Rejoice! I have found my sheep!"

And the angels echoed around the throne: "Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!"

My Faith looks up to Thee

My faith looks up to Thee, Thou Lamb of Calvary, Saviour divine!

Now hear me while I pray, Take all my guilt away, O, let me from this day Be wholly Thine.

May Thy rich grace impart Strength to my fainting heart, My zeal inspire; As Thou hast died for me, O, may my love to Thee Pure, warm, and changeless be, A living fire.

When ends life's transient dream, When death's cold, sullen stream Shall o'er me roll, Blest Saviour, then, in love, Fear and distrust remove; O, bear me safe above, A ransomed soul.

Jordan's Strand

My days are gliding swiftly by, And I, a pilgrim stranger, Would not detain them as they fly, Those hours of toil and danger.

_Chorus_

For, O we stand on Jordan's strand, Our friends are pa.s.sing over; And, just before, the s.h.i.+ning sh.o.r.e We may almost discover!

We'll gird our loins, my brethren dear, Our heavenly home discerning; Our absent Lord has left us word, "Let every lamp be burning."

Should coming days be cold and dark, We need not cease our singing; That perfect rest nought can molest, Where golden harps are ringing.

Let sorrow's rudest tempest blow, Each cord on earth to sever; Our King says, "Come!" and there's our home, Forever, O forever.

Over the Line

O tender and sweet was the Master's voice As he lovingly call'd to me, "Come over the line, it is only a step-- I am waiting my child, for thee."

_Refrain_

"Over the line," hear the sweet refrain, Angels are chanting the heavenly strain: "Over the line,"--Why should I remain With a step between me and Jesus?

But my sins are many, my faith is small, Lo! the answer came quick and clear; "Thou needest not trust in thyself at all, Step over the line, I am here."

But my flesh is weak, I tearfully said, And the way I cannot see; I fear if I try I may sadly fail, And thus may dishonor Thee.

Ah, the world is cold, and I cannot go back Press forward I surely must; I will place my hand in his wounded palm Step over the line, and trust.

O could I speak the Matchless Worth

O could I speak the matchless worth, O could I sound the glories forth, Which in my Saviour s.h.i.+ne, I'd soar, and touch the heav'nly strings, And vie with Gabriel while he sings, In notes almost divine.

I'd sing the precious blood He spilt, My ransom from the dreadful guilt Of sin and wrath divine; I'd sing His glorious righteousness, In which all-perfect, heavenly dress My soul shall ever s.h.i.+ne.

I'd sing the characters He bears, And all the forms of love He wears, Exalted on His throne; In loftiest songs of sweetest praise, I would to everlasting days Make all His glories known.

Well, the delightful day will come When my dear Lord will bring me home, And I shall see His face; Then with my Saviour, Brother, Friend, A blest eternity I'll spend, Triumphant in His grace.

O G.o.d, beneath Thy Guiding Hand

O G.o.d, beneath Thy guiding hand, Our exiled fathers cross'd the sea; And when they trod the wintry strand, With pray'r and psalm they wors.h.i.+pp'd Thee.

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.

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

And here Thy name, O G.o.d of love, Their children's children shall adore Till these eternal hills remove And spring adorns the earth no more.

America

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.

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

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.

Our fathers' G.o.d to Thee, Author of liberty, To Thee we sing; Long may our land be bright With freedom's holy light; Protect us with Thy might, Great G.o.d our King.