Part 3
Lift up the gates,-- They come who welcome win; Thrust wide the doors, And let His followers in; They come from toil and conflict long, Ten thousand times ten thousand strong.
V
Lift up the gates,-- Still valiant deeds are done; Thrust wide the doors, For laurels yet are won; And when the victor sheathes his sword, Receive the follower of his Lord.
I
Borne on the wings of light, Behold the Lord ascend, Up to the portals bright Where heavenly powers attend, And fling the gates of glory wide, While praises rise like flowing tide.
II
Back to the Father's bliss From war and strife below, From toil and loneliness 'Mid scenes of sin and woe;-- Loud plaudits hail the Victor now, Who comes with triumph on His brow.
III
Lord, in the peace of heaven, Far from our toil and pain, Think of the promise given, And come to us again;-- Remember, Thou, the toilsome road, That brought Thee to Thy blest abode.
IV
And see the toils we bear, And hear the prayers we send; In answer to our prayers, Our needy souls befriend;-- We need not languish in the night, Though heaven receive Thee from our sight.
V
O Promised Spirit, come, And fill the empty place, Till in our heavenly home We look upon His face, Who fought with us in earthly strife, And won for us immortal life.
PENTECOST
I
Like the beams that from the sun, Pierce the blackness of the night, Come to us, O Promised One, Spirit, Light.
II
Pure as saints who have attained, Clad in brightness for attire, Cleanse our souls by vileness stained, Spirit, Fire.
III
Stronger than uplifted arm In the tumult of the fight, Save our timid souls from harm, Spirit, Might.
IV
Soothing as the calm that falls When the winds and billows cease, Comfort us when fear appals, Spirit, Peace.
V
Come, O Gracious Spirit, come, We would have Thee for our Guest, Make our souls Thy chosen home, Spirit, Blest.
I
Come, Holy Ghost, in might, And make our weakness strong; Renew our valour in the fight Against the power of wrong.
II
Come, Holy Ghost, restore The zeal our lives have lost, And on our fainting spirits pour The grace of Pentecost.
III
Come, Holy Ghost, in light Our minds and hearts to cheer, And pierce the darkness of our night Of ignorance and fear.
IV
Come, Holy Ghost, in love, Reveal the love divine, That stooped to earth from heaven above, In sympathy benign.
V
And while the ages run, Our praise shall rise to Thee; And to the Father and the Son, One God, eternally.
I
Spirit of God, in love descend, And make our hearts Thy place of rest, In all our need a steadfast Friend To fill our store with gifts the best;
II
To cleanse our souls with holy fire From sordid stains that guilt imparts, And with Thy heavenly power inspire Our languid zeal, and fainting hearts;
III
To lift our minds to nobler things Than earth from all its best can show,-- The wealth that flies on speedy wings, The fleeting joys, like sparks that glow.
IV
Come in the hour of sore distress, When, deep the heart for comfort sighs, And with Thy soothing kindliness The tear-drops wipe from weeping eyes.
V
"Lo, I am with you to the end," Thus speaks the promise of our Lord; O Spirit of the Christ, descend, Fulfil to us the gracious word.
I
Lord, may Thy Holy Spirit calm Our troubled souls, and give them rest; And with His touch, like healing balm, Allay the pain of the distressed.
II
We hear the promise Thou did'st make To lone disciples long ago, And peace and hope our souls o'ertake, And joy dispels our brooding woe.
III
Now let us feel the Spirit's power, And let us hear His gracious word; Fulfil to us this holy hour The promise of our dying Lord.
IV
Come, Holy Ghost, with warmth of love, With light of hope, and calm of peace, And raise our sense bound souls above The mocking joys of earth that cease.
I
O God, the Holy Ghost, Thou Lord of light appear, And, as of old, at Pentecost, Come to us, waiting here; And let the darkness that enshrouds, Pass from our souls like passing clouds.
II
O God, the Holy Ghost-- The choicest gifts are Thine; Grant us the grace we covet most, And virtues most divine; And with Thy purifying fire, Consume, we pray, our vain desire.
III
O God, the Holy Ghost, With strength our weakness brace, That e'en the threatenings of a host We may with courage face; And put satanic power to flight, That bears upon our souls with might.
IV
O God, the Holy Ghost, Our soul's enduring Friend, For all the gifts of Pentecost Our grateful songs ascend;-- Thee, with the Father, and the Son We worship, glorious Three in One.
VARIOUS
{en Iordanê, baptizomenou sou Kyrie,}
{hê tês Triados ephanerôthê proskynêsis;}
_Epiphany_, January 6
I
When Jesus to the Jordan came To honour there the rite divine, Then, to the world, His awful claim Was witnessed by the Godhead Trine.
II
From heaven the Father's voice declared His pleasure and paternal love; And lo! the Holy Ghost appeared, And wore the likeness of a Dove.
III
Thrice holy, Jesus Christ, art Thou, By Father and by Spirit blessed; We see Thee at the Jordan now, And hear Thy Godhead there expressed.
IV
Now to the Father glory be, And to the Son beloved by God, And to the Spirit, endlessly, In heaven and all the earth abroad.
{metemorphôthês en tô orei Christe ho Theos,}
{deixas tois mathêtais sou tên doxan sou, kathôs êdynanto.}
_Transfiguration_, August 6
I
When on the mount the Lord appeared Transfigured to the sight, His countenance was like the sun, His raiment glistened white.
II
But dull the minds, and dark the eyes, On whom such glory shone; They saw not God upon the mount, They saw but man alone.
III
And when the dark and cloudy days Of death and sorrow came, What were their thoughts of Him who hung Upon the cross of shame?
IV
They knew not that the God of Life An offering yielded there, And of His will endured for all The load of sin He bare.
V
Lord, to the mount where Thou art seen In all Thy glory bright, Thy servants now would wend their way To gaze upon the Light,
VI
And there behold, in glory clad, The Light to mortals given, That in the night that hid the cross, Shone with the light of heaven.
{Idou, ho basileus sou erchetai.}
Palm Sunday
I
Behold, the King of Zion rides, But not in vain array; The people wave their goodly palms, With garments strew the way; And loud hosannas fill the air From crowds that, surging, throng; 'Tis meet to honour Him Who rides With cheer, and shout, and song.
II
O Zion, of your God beloved, The day of strife is nigh, Yet comes He not with armour clad, And sword upon His thigh; The weapons of your mighty King No other hand could wield, The might of God is in His arm, The will of God His shield.
III
See, on the cross, without the wall, The King Immortal dies; Not now hosannas fill the air,-- The shouts of hell arise; But in that hour of triumph, deemed, Satanic might is slain, For He Who bows the head in death, Shall rise to life again.
IV
O Zion, hail your mighty King, Your palms around Him wave, And strew your garments in the way Of Him Who rides to save; And when He mounts His regal throne, By bloody conflict won, Give homage to the King of heaven, God's One Eternal Son.
{agallesthô ta drymou.}
Elevation of the Cross
Menaeon, Sept. 14
I
Waving in the autumn breeze, Clap your hands, ye forest trees, For the arms that now entwine Needy souls, were stretched on thine.
II
And the cross that bore the weight Of the Christ, Creator great, By the power that still remains, All the universe sustains.
III
Emblem, by the Church adored; Might, that wields the kingly sword; Glory, of the ransomed host; Agony, of spirits lost.
IV
Cross of Christ! we lift our eyes And behold the sacrifice; For the arms that now entwine Needy souls, were stretched on thine.
Judgment
I
When in the clouds of heaven The Lord, the Judge, appears, When memory brings my sin to light, And conscience fills with fears,-- In mercy, Lord, have mercy then, Nor rank my soul with wicked men.
II
I have no plea to give, The sin is all my own, I cannot bear the searching glance Nor for that sin atone; I can alone that mercy crave,-- O Lord, Thine erring servant save.
III
Didst Thou not come to earth? Didst Thou not die for me? And all my sin in mercy bear Upon the awful tree? I claim that sacrifice, and pray, Turn not my erring soul away.
IV
The record of my sin, In mercy, Lord, remove, And to a place at Thy right hand Call Thou my soul, in love; That love divine I make my plea, O may that love encircle me.
{ton piston oiketên sou, anapauson}
{hôs eusplanchnos.}
Burial of a priest
I
Rest in the Lord, O servant by His grace, Dwell in His courts, and gaze upon His face, Know nought of toil, of weariness, or woe, They rest who serve, not weary, as below.
II
Rest in the Lord, the strife of war is past, Wear now the wreath of victory at last; E'en death is slain,--the cross of Christ sufficed, Death is not death, to those who live in Christ.
III
Rest in the Lord, the goal of life is won, To thee 'tis given to hear the glad "Well done"; Great their reward, who, till their Lord appear, Serve in the vineyard of the Master, here.
IV
Rest in the Lord; none can His honour claim, They honour have, who honour most His name; Thine this reward who counted gain but loss, Nor felt it shame to glory in the cross.
V
Rest in the Lord; swift comes the happy time, When we who strive shall reach Thy fairer clime; Christ, give us welcome when the toil is past, And bring us to the bliss of heaven, at last.
{makaria hê hodos, hê poreuê sêmeron, hoti}
{hêtoimasthê soi topos anapauseôs.}
Burial of a layman
I
Thou dost not pass a lonesome way, O soul released from mortal coil,-- Thou leav'st behind the weight and toil, And thou art blessed of God to-day.
II
The path thou treadest He hath trod Whom heaven received from death's abode,-- He knows each turning of the road That brings the unburdened soul to God.
III
It is not dark, it is not sad, It is not haunted now with fear,-- The saints have found it full of cheer, For with His comfort they were glad.
IV
Yea, with His presence thou art blest, And light upon the path is shed, For lo, He liveth Who was dead, And thou art journeying to thy rest.
V
'Tis we, not thou, who are distressed, For, blessed, blessed, is the way, O soul, thou journeyest to-day, That leads to everlasting rest.
Psalm I
I
The man who erring counsel shuns, Nor strays where sinners meet, But in the law of God delights In meditation sweet, Shall reap the happiness of those To whom the Lord His favour shews.
II
As tree beside the water brooks Whose leaf unfading lives, And when the time appointed comes, A bounteous fruitage gives;-- So shall he prosper all his days, Whose hope is in God's law always.
III
Not so the wicked,--they are chaff Before the wind that flies, Nor could they stand His searching glance, Should God in judgment rise; For known to God are all the right, But wicked men shall perish quite.
Psalm II
Morning
I
Lord, a band of foes increasing Terror to my heart would bring; For they tell my soul unceasing, That no help from God can spring.
II
Yet Thou art my shield about me, Till the time of strife is past; And though cruel foes may flout me, Thou wilt hear my prayer at last.
III
On my couch when night was falling, Lay I down devoid of fear; And when morning light was calling, I awoke, for thou wert near.
IV
Tens of thousands round my dwelling Stand arrayed to do me harm; But my trust when foes are swelling, Rests in Thine almighty arm.
V
Rise, O Lord, for Thou, victorious, Hast the might of sin o'erthrown, And amid Thy triumph glorious, Bless the people Thou dost own.
Psalm XXVII
Verses 1-6
I
Light of my life, O Lord, Thou art, No fear afflicts my trusting heart When, all secure in Thee As in a fortress I repose, And evil men, my direst foes, Are baulked that trouble me,
II
Hosts may encamp on every side, And pallid fear the trust deride That saves me from affright; But in the Lord my hope shall last, Till noise of war and strife are past, And flee the powers of night.
III
To God I make this chief request, That I in His abode may rest Through all my earthly days, To mark its comeliness and grace, And see the beauty of His face, Whose love inspires my praise.
IV
There shall I dwell unseen by all, Secure when days of trouble call, And evil doers mock; And He shall hide me in His tent, Till all the wrath of man is spent As tempests on a rock.
V
Therefore to Thee my praise I'll give, And joyful offerings while I live My grateful soul shall bring; For Thou my foes hast beaten down, With victory Thou my head dost crown, And tun'st my heart to sing.
Morning
I
From the hills the light is streaming, Hail, the gladsome morn! Earth with busy life is teeming, For the day is born.
II
Dawn, Thou Light of lights, undying On a fairer day, All creation beautifying With Thy glorious ray.
III
Weary eyes the hills are scanning For the early gleam; Souls, Thy long delay unmanning, Sleep, and idly dream.
IV
Ah, my soul, be up and doing, Life will soon be done, Night, the day is close pursuing To the setting sun.
V
And the day of God shall waken To the soul with fear, If, the call of life forsaken, We are slumbering here.
VI
From the hills the light is streaming, Hail the gladsome morn! And the light of God is beaming,-- This, His day, is born.
Evening
I
The day declines to night, The shadows lengthening fall, And see, the deepening purple light Throws on the hills its pall;-- Lord, be our Light when suns decline, And in our souls unclouded shine.
II
Still is the eventide,-- Calm is the soft repose, When earthly toil is laid aside, And eyelids drooping, close; Lord, let Thy peace my soul possess, In everlasting restfulness.
III
Night of my life draws near; Lord, when the light departs, Be all to me that Thou hast been To other trusting hearts, And in the calm that night bestows, Let me in peace with Thee repose.
IV
The night gives place to morn, The gloom shall pass away, And an eternal day be born, Whose sun shall shine for aye; Lord, wake me when the morn is come, And let me find with Thee my home.
The New Year
All-embracing as the Greek Service Books are, curiously enough, strictly speaking, they contain no Thanksgiving services. It has been left for the Russian Church to make them for the Greeks to imitate.
The models of the Ectene and Litanies are found in the Euchologion, at vespers, but adaptations of their petitions to every eventuality in human life, are the work of Russians, whose names, however, have not been preserved. Here is an example from the Thanksgiving service for the New Year.
I
Lord, let us feel that Thou art near, And while we pray, in mercy hear; Crown with Thy love the opening year;-- Have mercy, Lord.
II
Of Thy benignity, we pray, Thy gracious Spirit grant alway, Our strife and discord to allay;-- Have mercy, Lord.
III
May peace our inmost soul possess, And in our lives our converse bless, With unaffected kindliness;-- Have mercy, Lord.
IV
Our sinful past, we here repent, With tears our wayward course lament, Now, let Thy pardoning grace be sent;-- Have mercy, Lord.
V
As seasons come, Good Lord ordain That we the fruits of earth obtain, Send us the sunshine and the rain;-- Have mercy, Lord.
VI
With strength Thy Holy Church endue, The anger of her foes subdue, The offerings of Thy grace renew;-- Have mercy, Lord.
Harvest Hymn
I
Come, praise with gladness the Lord of all creation, Heaven tells His glory, earth His bounty shews; Lowly He sought us, and won for us salvation, Grace fills our lives with goodness He bestows. _Refrain._ Bountiful Giver, Thine be the praise, Blessing, and honour, and glory, always.
II
Spring time and harvest, and cloud and summer gladness, Come to our earth because His promise lives; Morn smiles with beauty, and evening soothes our sadness;-- Such are the treasures that His bounty gives. _Refrain._
III
Spring time is now, and summer with its beauty; Brightness and sadness here alternate come; Lord, may the flowers, and fruits of love and duty, Blossom and ripen for Thy harvest home. _Refrain._
IV
Then when the angels, the reapers at the ending, Gather the fruitage which our lives have grown, May we with gladness, angel toil attending, Sing of the harvest at the heavenly home. _Refrain._ Bountiful Giver, Thine be the praise, Blessing, and honour, and glory, always.
PENITENCE AND LOVE
I
Now with my weeping would I cleanse my soul, And with my grief would shame my sin away; But tears no virtue have to make me whole, Nor sorrow power to end sin's hateful sway.
II
But yet the heart in sore distress that sighs, Looks to the Christ His succour to impart; And God receives the pleasing sacrifice, A broken spirit, and a contrite heart.
III
Nailed to the cross I see my Saviour bleed,-- This is the sacrifice my soul requires; Here is the cleansing, and the power I need, To quell the rising of my vain desires.
IV
Speak to my heart, O Jesus Christ, Who came Fired by Thy love, an offering for sin; And by a love enkindled at that flame, Win me forever from the self within.
I
O God of love, on bended knee, We, guilty sinners, call on Thee; Now, by the cross that Jesus bore, Extend Thy mercy, we implore.
II
We have no plea to urge but this, Our own exceeding sinfulness, And all the love to sinners shown Who claim His merits as their own.
III
Ah, weary with the toil of sin, We seek Thy matchless grace to win; Lord, break the fetters that enslave, And let us know Thy power to save.
IV
Rise on the darkness of the way That leads from night to perfect day, And let the joy that light awakes Possess the soul that sin forsakes.
V
O Christ, to Thee our praise ascends, Whose love the needy soul befriends; For, by Thy cross our souls are free To love and praise, eternally.
I
O God, in mercy hear, I lift my cry to Thee, And let Thy gracious help be sent In my perplexity; But Thou art far away, And I am filled with shame, I cannot see Thy blessed face, And fear to name Thy name.
II
And now a sense of guilt Inspires me with dismay,-- I know that none on earth can take That awful load away; 'Tis mine, the sin, 'tis mine, And mine the guilt to bear, The awful burden of the blame, The cloud of dark despair.
III
Is there no balm to heal? No pity that can bless?-- O God, Who art so far away, Be near in my distress; And heed the tears I shed, And hear my woeful cry; And since there is no hand to help, Come Thou in mercy nigh.
IV
'Twas then a voice I heard,-- It came in winning tone, Across my night, from far away, To where I prayed alone; It told me of a love, That sought me long ago, And on the cross my burden bore, Of sin, and guilt, and woe.
V
O blessed cross of Christ! Thou hast my need supplied, For there, upon thy outstretched arms I see the Crucified; And He has sin to bear, That none can call His own,-- O Christ, the sin and guilt Thou bor'st, Are mine, are mine, alone.
I
Come to the Christ in tears, And in His hearing tell Thy sins, and griefs, and fears, The wants He knoweth well; Fear not to bring a large request, He gives, and giveth of His best.
II
Come to the Christ in tears: The contrite heart He wills; And every prayer He hears, And every vessel fills;-- We never ask, and sigh unblest, He gives, and giveth of His best.
III
Come to the Christ in tears;-- As when the clouds depart A glorious light appears-- So joy shall flood the heart; They cannot weep who share His grace, And see the smiling of His face.
I
Forgive my heart its vain regrets, And, as I cast my eyes behind, Subdue the spirit, Lord, that frets, Because the light with dark is twined.
II
I cannot understand the way By which unerring wisdom leads; Nor do I know for what to pray, Unconscious of my deepest needs.
III
Thou, Whose almighty power upholds The stars that in their courses move,-- Whose eye creation's need beholds To prompt the outflow of Thy love;--
IV
Teach me in calm content to live 'Mid all the changes life contains, Assured that, love and wisdom give The blessing that for aye remains.
V
And in the darkness and the light, And in the gladness and the pain, Make me to know that all is right, And every loss my truest gain.
{porrhô ekpheuxômetha kosmou, hapan to hamartêma.}
I
Far let me flee from worldly sin, Nor look behind, but onward press; Lest the deceit that lurks within, Should link the soul to worldliness.
II
Ah! whither shall I flee, my God? There is no refuge but in Thee, And Thy command exceeding broad, Condemns my soul's perversity.
III
But in Thy grace my troubled soul Would find forgiveness freely given; And in Thy Spirit's firm control, A power to lift me nearer heaven.
IV
Thus shall I flee from worldly sin, Nor look behind, but onward press, And daily fight, and daily win The rich reward of righteousness.
I
Lord of mercy, at Thy gate, Needy souls imploring pray; Have we come, Good Lord, too late? Must we turn in grief away?
II
Young and old Thy mercy claim,-- Some are early at the gate, Some are late to own Thy name, Surely none, though late, too late!
III
Blessed, who with morning sun, Hopeful at Thy portals wait; Yea, and when the day is done, Blessed they who find the gate.
IV
Ah, Good Lord, when Thou wert here, Homeless, in our world of sin, Few, to give Thee warmth and cheer, Called their weary Lord within.
V