Difference between revisions of "My Song Is Love Unknown"
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− | *[[St. John]]<ref>[http://books.google.com/books?id=jFANAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA653&dq=%22my+song+is+love+unknown%22&as_brr=1#PPA319,M1 Sursum Corda: A Book of Praise, 1898 (no. 435; p. 319)]</ref> | + | *[[St. John]], by [[J.B. Calkin]], 1827<ref>[http://books.google.com/books?id=jFANAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA653&dq=%22my+song+is+love+unknown%22&as_brr=1#PPA319,M1 Sursum Corda: A Book of Praise, 1898 (no. 435; p. 319)]</ref> |
=Lyrics= | =Lyrics= |
Revision as of 17:57, 22 April 2008
My Song Is Love Unknown is a hymn by Samuel Crossman, written in 1664. It is usually sung to the hymn tune Love Unknown by John Ireland.
Contents
Tunes
- Love Unknown
- St. John, by J.B. Calkin, 1827[1]
Lyrics
- Poet: Samuel Crossman (1623–1683), 1664
- Copyright: Public Domain
Lyrics from Congregational Church Hymnal, 1887 (no. 120; p. 34)
- 1. My song is love unknown;
- My Saviour's love to me;
- Love to the loveless shown,
- That they might lovely be.
- Oh, who am I,
- That for my sake
- My Lord should take
- Frail flesh, and die?
- 2. He came from His blessed Throne,
- Salvation to bestow:
- But men made strange, and none
- The longed-for Christ would know,
- But oh! my Friend;
- My Friend indeed,
- Who at my need
- His life did spend.
- 3. Sometimes they strew His way,
- And His sweet praises sing;
- Resounding all the day,
- Hosannas to their King.
- Then "Crucify!"
- Is all their breath,
- And for His death
- They thirst and cry.
- 4. Why, what hath my Lord done?
- What makes this rage and spite?
- He made the lame to run,
- He gave the blind their sight.
- Sweet injuries!
- Yet they at these
- Themselves displease,
- And 'gainst Him rise.
- 5. They rise and needs will have
- My dear Lord made away.
- A murderer they save:
- The Prince of life they slay.
- Yet cheerful He
- To suff'ring goes,
- That He His foes
- From thence might free.
- 6. In life, no house, no home
- My Lord on earth might have;
- In death, no friendly tomb,
- But what a stranger gave.
- What may I say?
- Heav'n was His home;
- But mine the tomb
- Wherein He lay.
- 7. Here might I stay and sing,
- No story so divine;
- Never was love, dear King!
- Never was grief like Thine.
- This is my Friend,
- In whose sweet praise
- I all my days
- Could gladly spend.