49 lines
3.0 KiB
HTML
49 lines
3.0 KiB
HTML
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<title>BLB Hymns</title>
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<h2>LET SIGHING CEASE AND WOE</h2>
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<p align="center"><h3>“I bring you good news of great joy.” Luke 2:10</h3></p>
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<center><b>Hymns Supplied Through the Gracious Generosity<br>of the </b><a href="http://www.hymntime.com/tch/" target = "_blank"><b>Cyber Hymnal Website</b></a><br><br><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/cyberhymnal_info.html" target = "_blank">Information about Cyber Hymnal Website</a></center>
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<p><img src="./hymns/hymns_img/img_c_r_crotch_w.gif" alt="William Crotch (1775-1847)" align="right" hspace="15" vspace="5" width="131.333333333333" height="185.333333333333"><em>Words:</em> <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_c_o_coffin_c.html" target="_blank">Charles Coffin</a> (1676-1749) (<em>Jam aesmant suspiria</em>); translated from Latin to English by <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_b_l_blew_wj.html" target="_blank">William John Blew</a> (1808-1894).</p>
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<p><em>Music:</em> “St. Michael,” melody by <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_b_o_bourgeois_l.html" target="_blank">Louis Bourgeois</a> in the <em>Genevan Psalter</em>, 1551; adapted by <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_c_r_crotch_w.html" target="_blank">William Crotch</a>, 1836 </p><p><table><tr><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_mid/mid_s_t_stmike.mid" target = "_blank"><img border=0 src="./hymns/hymns_img/notes.gif"><br><b>Play MIDI</b></a></td><td> </td><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_html/score_info.html" target = "_blank"><b>Link to obtain<br>musical score info</b></a></td></tr></table></p>
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<div class="lyrics">
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<p>Let sighing cease and woe<br>
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God from on high hath heard,<br>
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Heaven’s gate is opening wide, and lo!<br>
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The long expected Word.</p>
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<p>Peace! through the deep of night<br>
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The heavenly choir breaks forth,<br>
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Singing, with festal songs and bright,<br>
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Our God and Savior’s birth.</p>
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<p>The cave of Bethlehem<br>
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Those wakeful shepherds seek;<br>
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Let us too rise and greet with them<br>
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That infant pure and meek.</p>
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<p>We enter—at the door<br>
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What marvel meets the eye?<br>
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A crib, a mother pale and poor,<br>
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A child of poverty.</p>
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<p>Art Thou the eternal Son,<br>
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The eternal Father’s ray?<br>
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Whose little hand, Thou infant one,<br>
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Doth lift the world alway?</p>
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<p>Yea—faith through that dim cloud,<br>
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Like lightning darts before,<br>
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And greets Thee, at Whose footstool bowed<br>
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Heaven’s trembling hosts adore.</p>
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<p>Chaste be our love like Thine,<br>
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Our swelling souls bring low,<br>
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And in our hearts, O Babe divine<br>
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Be born, abide and grow.</p>
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<p>So shall Thy birthday morn,<br>
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Lord Christ, our birthday be,<br>
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Then greet we all, ourselves newborn,<br>
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Our King’s nativity.</p>
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