Improvisation and Hymn for Holy Week

 

[Short choral prelude improvisation by Roger Brown]

1 There is a green hill far away,
without a city wall,
where the dear Lord was crucified,
who died to save us all.

2 We may not know, we cannot tell,
what pains he had to bear;
but we believe it was for us
he hung and suffered there.

3 He died that we might be forgiv’n,
he died to make us good,
that we might go at last to heav’n,
saved by his precious blood.

4 There was no other good enough
to pay the price of sin;
he only could unlock the gate
of heav’n, and let us in.

5 O dearly, dearly has he loved,
and we must love him too,
and trust in his redeeming blood,
and try his works to do.

Hymn for Palm Sunday – AHB 250 All glory laud and honour

 All glory, laud, and honour
to you, Redeemer, King,
to whom the lips of children
made sweet hosannas ring.

1.You are the King of Israel
and David’s royal Son,
now in the Lord’s name coming,
the King and Blessed One.

All glory….

2 The company of angels
is praising you on high;
and we with all creation
in chorus make reply.

All glory….

3. The people of the Hebrews
with palms before you went;
our praise and prayer and anthems
before you we present.

All glory….

4 To you before your passion
they sang their hymns of praise;
to you, now high exalted,
our melody we raise.

All glory….

5.As you received their praises,
accept the prayers we bring,
for you delight in goodness,
O good and gracious King!

All glory….

A Hymn for Passion Sunday (Lent 5)

1. O sacred head, sore wounded,
Defiled and put to scorn;
O kingly head, surrounded
With mocking crown of thorn:
What sorrow mars Thy grandeur?
Can death Thy bloom deflow’r?
O countenance whose splendor
The hosts of heav’en adore!

2. Thy beauty, long desired,
Hath vanished from our sight;
Thy pow’r is all expired,
And quenched the light of light.
Ah me! for whom Thou diest,
Hide not so far Thy grace:
Show me, O Love most highest,
The brightness of Thy face.

3. In Thy most bitter passion
My heart to share doth cry,
With Thee for my salvation
Upon the cross to die.
Ah, keep my heart thus moved
To stand Thy cross beneath,
To mourn Thee, well-beloved,
Yet thank Thee for Thy death.

4. What language shall I borrow
To thank Thee, dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow,
Thy pity without end?
Oh, make me Thine for ever!
And should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never
Outlive my love for Thee.