64 lines
3.3 KiB
HTML
64 lines
3.3 KiB
HTML
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<title>BLB Hymns</title>
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<h2>MY SONG IS LOVE UNKNOWN</h2>
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<p align="center"><h3>“The love of Christ, which passeth knowledge.” Ephesians 3:19</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><em>Words:</em> <a href="./hymns/hymns_bio/bio_c_r_crossman_s.html" target="_blank">Samuel Crossman</a>, <em>The Young Man’s Meditation</em>, 1664.</p>
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<p><em>Music:</em> “Wesley,” composer unknown </p><p><table><tr><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_mid/mid_w_wesley.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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<ul>
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<li>“Rhosymedre,” John David Edwards, 1840 </p><p><table><tr><td><a href="./hymns/hymns_mid/mid_r_rhosymed.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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</ul>
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</div>
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<div class="lyrics">
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<p>My song is love unknown,<br>
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My Savior’s love to me;<br>
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Love to the loveless shown,<br>
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That they might lovely be.<br>
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O who am I, that for my sake<br>
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My Lord should take, frail flesh and die?</p>
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<p>He came from His blest throne<br>
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Salvation to bestow;<br>
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But men made strange, and none<br>
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The longed for Christ would know:<br>
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But O! my Friend, my Friend indeed,<br>
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Who at my need His life did spend.</p>
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<p>Sometimes they strew His way,<br>
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And His sweet praises sing;<br>
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Resounding all the day<br>
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Hosannas to their King:<br>
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Then “Crucify!” is all their breath,<br>
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And for His death they thirst and cry.</p>
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<p>Why, what hath my Lord done?<br>
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What makes this rage and spite?<br>
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He made the lame to run,<br>
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He gave the blind their sight,<br>
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Sweet injuries! Yet they at these<br>
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Themselves displease, and ’gainst Him rise.</p>
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<p>They rise and needs will have<br>
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My dear Lord made away;<br>
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A murderer they saved,<br>
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The Prince of life they slay,<br>
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Yet cheerful He to suffering goes,<br>
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That He His foes from thence might free.</p>
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<p>In life, no house, no home<br>
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My Lord on earth might have;<br>
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In death no friendly tomb<br>
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But what a stranger gave.<br>
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What may I say? Heav’n was His home;<br>
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But mine the tomb wherein He lay.</p>
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<p>Here might I stay and sing,<br>
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No story so divine;<br>
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Never was love, dear King!<br>
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Never was grief like Thine.<br>
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This is my Friend, in Whose sweet praise<br>
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I all my days could gladly spend.</p>
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