One day living in Chicago, I was rearranging storage boxes in my apartment when I inadvertently opened a box I thought was filled with LP stereo components of my dad’s, inherited after his death.
Turns out the box contained a hodgepodge of really old family mementos, including an original blue cloth-bound and gold-stamped church hymnal published at 218 S. Wabash Ave., Chicago, in 1925. Inside the cover was a black-and-white photo of Billy Sunday with his signature and cursive writing of II Timothy 2:15.
Looking at the hymn list with page numbers I realized many of these hymns were ones no one has encountered in a very long time. "They are lost forever," I thought.
Indeed, the second song of the whole book was one I’d never heard before, entitled Steal Away to Jesus. The book noted that the song was written by Samuel M. Glasgow and considered a Scottish hymn by roots. The lyrics are:
1. Steal away to Jesus, to the secret place of prayer; Steal away to Jesus, for that fellowship so rare; He has tasted our life’s grief, He can give you full relief: Steal away to Jesus, His own peace will greet you there.
2. Steal away to Jesus, sorrow-crowned His life has been; Steal away to Jesus, His blood covers ev-’ry sin; He has ever loved you so, there the peace of God you’ll know. Steal away to Jesus, healing grace you’ll have within.
3. Steal away to Jesus, with the vexing cares that fret; Steal away to Jesus, where your trials you’ll forget; He your soul is ever near, to his heart your life is dear; Steal away to Jesus, where the banquet feast is set.
For me, someone tremendously blessed to have grown up with LP records of hymns playing in our home (and even on cassette for car excursions), the lyrics lend precious insights into the hearts of the writers.
The songs are oftentimes uniquely intimate and encouraging given their sincere relaying of the writer's personal struggles and shortcomings, godly desires and yearnings, victories and enlightenings, repentings and reprovings, on and on.
Sometimes it feels as if you’re reading their love poems to Jesus Christ and God’s Word. Their command of the King James Bible is readily apparent in the usage of verses and stories.
On page 10 of the song book is, for example, Jesus, Rose of Sharon, written by Ida A. Guirey in 1922. The lyrics include:
1. Jesus, Rose of Sharon, bloom within my heart; Beauties of Thy truth and holiness impart, That where-e’er I go my life may shed abroad Fragrance of thy knowledge of the love of God.
2. Jesus, Rose of Sharon, sweeter far to see That the fairest flow’rs of earth could ever be, Fill my life completely, adding more each day Of Thy grace divine and purity, I pray.
Here are some more lines from a number of the song book’s hymns, separated by ellipsis’:
“All my life was wrecked by sin and strife, Discord filled my heart with pain, Jesus swept across the broken strings, Stirred the slumb’ring chords again . . .
O Savior Thou art patient still, Tho’ I have grieved Thee sore, Have slighted Thee, betrayed and Denied Thee o’er and o’er; Yet in Thy mercy wide and deep Thou hast not turned away . . .
Sweet secret prayer, comfort divine, There do Thine arms, Lord, round me entwine, There do I feel I truly am Thine, Rivers of love and mercy there flow, Balm for all sorrow that mortal can know . . .
Dear Lord, take up the tangled strands, Where we have wrought in vain, That by the skill of Thy dear hands Some beauty may remain, Transformed by grace divine, The glory shall be Thine; To Thy most holy will, O Lord, We now our all resign . . .
I left it all with Jesus, The myst’ry of my pain, The meaning of my sorrow—Some day He’ll make it plain, I left it all with Jesus, And now I am at rest, My all is in His keeping, And what He wills is best . . .
Go out on the streets and highways, Go out with the message of love; Go tell in the corners and byways, Of Jesus, the Friend from above, Go forth in the strength of the Master, Fear nothing, for He is your Guide; Go rescue their souls from disaster, The Savior will stand by your side, For he that is wise winneth souls . . .
Work, for the night is coming, Work thro’ the morning hours; Work while the dew is sparkling, Work ’mid springing flow’rs; Give every flying minute Something to keep in store; Work, for the night is coming, When man works no more . . .
He calls you, for He loves you With a heart most kind, He whose heart was broken, Broken for mankind; Now, just now He calls you, Calls in accents clear, Will you be enlisted As a volunteer? A volunteer for Jesus, A soldier true! Others have enlisted, Why not you? Oh, why not? . . .
In a flood of light supernal, While the angel chorus sings, With the hosts of heaven watching, Trumpet sounds and joy-bell rings, Oh, the glory of His coming, From the throne in heav’n above, Bringing down from realms eternal Wonders of God’s love. Till the day dawns and the shadows flee away, Guide me, O Thou dear Redeemer, Keep me faithful all the way . . .
In a flood of light supernal, While the angel chorus sings, With the hosts of heaven watching, Trumpet sounds and joy-bell rings, Oh, the glory of His coming, From the throne in heav’n above, Bringing down from realms eternal Wonders of God’s love. Till the day dawns and the shadows flee away, Guide me, O Thou dear Redeemer, Keep me faithful all the way . . .
What purpose burns within our hearts That we together here should stand, Pledging each other mutual vows, And ready to join hand in hand? . . .
Blessed Lord, Thee is refuge, Safety for my trembling soul, Pow’r to lift my head when drooping ’Midst the angry billows’ roll. I will trust Thee, I will trust Thee, I will trust Thee, All my life Thou shalt control, All my life Thou shalt control . . .
Upon a wide and stormy sea, Thou’rt sailing to eternity, And thy great Adm’ral orders thee:--‘Sail on! sail on! sail on!’ . . .
See the glorious banner waving! Hear the trumpet blow! In our Leader’s name we’ll triumph Over ev-'ry foe. ‘Hold the fort, for I am coming,’ Jesus signals still; Wave the answer back to heaven, ‘By Thy grace we will’ . . .
Here is a famous hymn from the book still heard today that I wanted to share:
Jesus, lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high: Hide me, O my Savior, hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide; O receive my soul at last. | |
2 | Other refuge have I none, Hangs my helpless soul on Thee; Leave, oh, leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me. All my trust on Thee is stayed, All my help from Thee I bring; Cover my defenseless head With the shadow of Thy wing. |
3 | Thou, O Christ, art all I want; More than all in Thee I find; Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick and lead the blind. Just and holy is Thy name, I am all unrighteousness; Vile and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace. |
4 | Plenteous grace with Thee is found, Grace to cover all my sin; Let the healing streams abound; Make and keep me pure within. Thou of life the fountain art, Freely let me take of Thee; Spring Thou up within my heart, Rise to all eternity. |
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