A Poor Brother's Hymnal
Sunday, March 25, 2007
  Arise, My Soul, Arise
“Christ Jesus…is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us.” Romans 8:34

Charles Wesley (1707-1788)

Words: Charles Wes­ley, Hymns and Sac­red Po­ems, 1742.

Music: Len­ox, Lew­is Ed­son, in The Chor­ist­er’s Com­pan­ion, by Sim­e­on Jo­ce­lyn and Amos Doo­lit­tle (New Ha­ven, Con­nec­ti­cut: 1782) (MI­DI, score).

“I have a re­cord,” said a Wes­ley­an mis­sion­ary la­bor­ing in the West In­dies, “of two hun­dred per­sons, young and old, who re­ceived the most di­rect ev­i­dence of the for­give­ness of their sins while sing­ing ‘Arise, my soul.’ The con­ver­sion of the great­er num­ber of these per­sons took place while I was a mis­sion­ary abroad.”

Sankey, p. 115



Arise, my soul, arise; shake off thy guilty fears;
The bleeding sacrifice in my behalf appears:
Before the throne my surety stands,
Before the throne my surety stands,
My name is written on His hands.

He ever lives above, for me to intercede;
His all redeeming love, His precious blood, to plead:
His blood atoned for all our race,
His blood atoned for all our race,
And sprinkles now the throne of grace.

Five bleeding wounds He bears; received on Calvary;
They pour effectual prayers; they strongly plead for me:
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Forgive him, O forgive,” they cry,
“Nor let that ransomed sinner die!”

The Father hears Him pray, His dear anointed One;
He cannot turn away, the presence of His Son;
His Spirit answers to the blood,
His Spirit answers to the blood,
And tells me I am born of God.

My God is reconciled; His pardoning voice I hear;
He owns me for His child; I can no longer fear:
With confidence I now draw nigh,
With confidence I now draw nigh,
And “Father, Abba, Father,” cry.

C F C G C / Am Em F G / Am F Dm Am / F G C

G C G D G / Em Bm C D/ Em C Am Em / C D G

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  My God, I Love Thee
My God, I love thee; not because
I hope for heaven thereby,
nor yet because who love thee not
are lost eternally.
Thou, O Lord Jesus, thou didst me
upon the cross embrace;
for me didst bear the nails and spear,
and manifold disgrace,

And griefs and torments numberless,
and sweat of agony;
yea, death itself; and all for me
who was thine enemy.
Then why, O blessed Jesus Christ,
should I not love thee well,
not for the sake of winning heaven,
nor any fear of hell;

not with the hope of gaining aught,
not seeking a reward;
but as thyself hast loved me,
O ever loving Lord!
So would I love thee, dearest Lord,
and in thy praise will sing,
solely because thou art my God
and my most loving King.

Words: Latin, seventeenth century;
Edward Caswall, 1849

Am G/B C Dm / C F G / Am G/B C Dm / C Dm Am

Em Am Dm C / C Am G / Am G/B C Dm / C Dm Am

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  And This Is Love
And this is love, not that I have first loved you
And this is love, that you have first loved me
And you gave up your life, one perfect sacrifice
And this is love, that you have first loved me

You did not wait for me to make myself worthy
You did not wait for me to make a good righteous state
For there was nothing I could do, in sin I had died
Yet your love conquered death and raised me to your side

And this is love not that I have first loved you
And this is love that you have first loved me
And you gave up your life, one perfect sacrifice
And this is love, that you have first loved me.

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  Amazing Love
“The angel of the Lord came upon him, and a light shined in the prison: and he smote Peter on the side, and raised him up, saying, ‘Arise up quickly.&rssquo; And his chains fell off from his hands.” Acts 12:7

Charles Wesley (1707-1788)

Words: Charles Wes­ley, Psalms and Hymns, 1738.

Music: Sa­gi­na, Thom­as Camp­bell, Bou­quet, 1825 (MI­DI, score).


Thomas Campbell (1777-1844)



St. Peter Freed from Prison, by Pier Francesco Mola (1612-1666)

And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior’s blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain—
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! How can it be,
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

’Tis mystery all: th’Immortal dies:
Who can explore His strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries
To sound the depths of love divine.
’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore,
Let angel minds inquire no more.
’Tis mercy all! Let earth adore;
Let angel minds inquire no more.

He left His Father’s throne above
So free, so infinite His grace—
Emptied Himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam’s helpless race:
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!
’Tis mercy all, immense and free,
For O my God, it found out me!

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray—
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

Still the small inward voice I hear,
That whispers all my sins forgiven;
Still the atoning blood is near,
That quenched the wrath of hostile Heaven.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.
I feel the life His wounds impart;
I feel the Savior in my heart.

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine;
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness divine,
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach th’eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.



C G/B Bb Am / C F C G / C G/B Bb Am / C F Am G C

F C G C / Am C F G / F C G Am / C Am F G C

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All my favorite hymns. Most of them are from before the Reformation.

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