Edmond L. Budry wrote “A Toi la Gloire,” “Thine Be the Glory,” in 1884, reportedly after the death of his first wife, Marie de Vayenborg. It was first published in Chants Evangeliques in Lausanne, Switzerland, 1885. It was translated into English in 1925 by Richard B. Hoyle, and appeared in Cantate Domino Hymnal, 1925, the hymnal of the World Student Christian Federation¹.

Thine be the glory, risen, conqu’ring Son;
endless is the vict’ry Thou o’er death hast won.
Angels in bright raiment rolled the stone away,
kept the folded grave-clothes where Thy body lay.
Thine be the glory, risen, conqu’ring Son;
endless is the vict’ry Thou o’er death hast won.

Lo, Jesus meets us, risen from the tomb.
Lovingly He greets us, scatters fear and gloom;
let His church with gladness hymns of triumph sing,
for the Lord now liveth; death hath lost its sting.
Thine be the glory, risen, conqu’ring Son;
endless is the vict’ry Thou o’er death hast won.

No more we doubt Thee, glorious Prince of life!!
Life is nought without Thee; aid us in our strife;
make us more than conqu’rors, through Thy deathless love;
bring us safe through Jordan to Thy home above.
Thine be the glory, risen, conqu’ring Son;
endless is the vict’ry Thou o’er death hast won.

¹songsandhymns.org/hymns/detail/thine-be-the-glory

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Christopher Porteous was born on 8 November 1935 and he qualified as a solicitor (lawyer) in 1960. He was active at Anglican church Christ Church Beckenham and wrote the history of that church. Some 30 of his hymns are in print, written from 1970s onwards, featuring in Scripture Union, Jubilate and other books, with his best-known text being published in several hymnals. He has a concern for the current lack of reverence in worship and ‘the poor quality of some contemporary choruses.¹

He gave his life in selfless love,
for sinners once he came;
he had no stain of sin himself
but bore our guilt and shame:
he took the cup of pain and death,
his blood was freely shed;
we see his body on the cross,
we share the living bread.

He did not come to call the good
but sinners to repent;
it was the lame, the deaf, the blind
for whom his life was spent:
to heal the sick, to find the lost
it was for such he came,
and round his table all may come
to praise his holy name.

They heard him call his Father’s name
‘Tis finished!’ was his cry;
like them we have forsaken him
and left him there to die:
the sins that crucified him then
are sins his blood has cured;
the love that bound him on a cross
our freedom has ensured.

His body broken once for us
is glorious now above;
the cup of blessing we receive,
a sharing of his love:
as in his presence we partake,
his dying we proclaim
until the hour of majesty
when Jesus comes again.

¹praise.org.uk/hymnauthor/porteous-christopher-selwyn/

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Today’s hymn is written by Isaac Watts in 1707, and is one of the most loveliest, gospel saturated poems you will read this week!

Alas and did my Saviour bleed
And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that Sacred Head
For such a worm as I?

Was it for crimes that I had done
He groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

Well might the sun in darkness hide
And shut his glories in,
When Christ, the Mighty Maker died,
For man the creature’s sin.

Thus might I hide my blushing face
While His dear Cross appears,
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness,
And melt my eyes to tears.

But drops of grief can ne’er repay
The debt of love I owe:
Here, Lord, I give my self away
‘Tis all that I can do.

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Today is the Lord’s Day and also traditionally marks Holy Week, stretching from the Sunday before Christ’s death (Palm Sunday) to the day of Easter (Resurrection Sunday). This week we will be looking at songs that would fit in well with this time in the church calendar! The other of today’s hymn has been debated, but it is usually attributed to Bernard of Clairvaux (1091-1153). The Latin text consisted of seven parts, identifying a different part of the body (feet, knees, hands, sides, breast, heart and head), intended to be sung each day of Holy Week¹.

O sacred Head now wounded,
With grief and shame weighed down,
Now scornfully surrounded with thorns,
Thine only crown;
How pale Thou art with anguish,
With sore abuse and scorn!
How does that visage languish,
Which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered,
Was all for sinners’ gain;
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain.
Lo, here I fall, my Saviour!
‘Tis I deserve Thy place;
Look on me with Thy favour,
Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

What language shall I borrow
To thank Thee, Dearest Friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine forever,
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never,
Never outlive my love to Thee.

My Shepherd, now receive me;
My Guardian, own me Thine.
Great blessings Thou didst give me,
O Source of gifts divine.
Thy lips have often fed me
With words of truth and love;
Thy Spirit oft hath led me
To heavenly joys above.

My Saviour, be Thou near me
When death is at my door;
Then let Thy presence cheer me,
Forsake me nevermore!
When soul and body languish,
Oh, leave me not alone,
But take away mine anguish
By virtue of Thine own

¹umcdiscipleship.org/resources/history-of-hymns-o-sacred-head-now-wounded-1

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