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قراءة كتاب The Story of Our Hymns

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The Story of Our Hymns

The Story of Our Hymns

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دار النشر: Project Gutenberg
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Glory!

Thy relaxing sinews bend;

For awhile the ancient rigor

That thy birth bestowed, suspend;

And the King of heavenly beauty

On thy bosom gently tend!

Thou alone wast counted worthy

This world’s Ransom to uphold;

For a shipwrecked race preparing

Harbor, like the Ark of old;

With the sacred blood anointed

From the smitten Lamb that rolled.

And again:

O Tree of beauty, Tree of Light!

O Tree with royal purple dight!

Elect on whose triumphal breast

Those holy limbs should find their rest:

On whose dear arms, so widely flung,

The weight of this world’s Ransom hung:

The price of humankind to pay,

And spoil the spoiler of his prey.

Fortunatus’ famous Passion hymn, Pange lingua glorioso, is also the basis for the beautiful Easter hymn:

Praise the Saviour

Now and ever!

Praise Him all beneath the skies!

Prostrate lying,

Suffering, dying,

On the Cross, a Sacrifice;

Victory gaining,

Life obtaining,

Now in glory He doth rise.

Another Easter hymn, “Welcome, happy morning! age to age shall say,” has a triumphant ring in its flowing lines. His odes to Ascension day and Whitsunday are similar in character.

That Fortunatus had a true evangelical conception of Christ and His atonement may be seen in his well-known hymn, Lustra sex qui jam peregit:

Holy Jesus, grant us grace

In Thy sacrifice to place

All our trust for life renewed,

Pardoned sin and promised good.


A Tribute to the Dying Saviour

O sacred Head, now wounded,

With grief and shame weighed down,

Now scornfully surrounded,

With thorns Thine only crown!

Once reigning in the highest

In light and majesty,

Dishonored now Thou diest,

Yet here I worship Thee.

How art Thou pale with anguish,

With sore abuse and scorn!

How does that visage languish,

Which once was bright as morn!

What Thou, my Lord, hast suffered,

Was all for sinners’ gain;

Mine, mine was the transgression,

But Thine the deadly pain.

Lo, here I fall, my Saviour,

’Tis I deserve Thy place:

Look on me with Thy favor,

Vouchsafe to me Thy grace.

Receive me, my Redeemer;

My Shepherd, make me Thine,

Of every good the Fountain,

Thou art the Spring of mine!

What language shall I borrow

To thank Thee, dearest Friend,

For this, Thy dying sorrow,

Thy pity without end!

O make me Thine forever,

And should I fainting be,

Lord, let me never, never,

Outlive my love to Thee.

Bernard of Clairvaux (1091-1153 A.D.)


THE GOLDEN AGE OF LATIN HYMNODY

During the Middle Ages, when evil days had fallen upon the Church, there was very little to inspire sacred song. All over Europe the Gregorian chants, sung in Latin, had crowded out congregational singing. The barbarian languages were considered too crude for use in worship, and much less were they regarded as worthy of being moulded into Christian hymns. Religious poetry was almost invariably written in Latin.

However, in the midst of the spiritual decay and worldly depravity that characterized the age there were noble souls whose lives shone like bright stars in the surrounding darkness. Their sacred poetry, a great deal of which was written for private devotion, bears witness of their deep love for the Saviour.

The beautiful Palm Sunday hymn, “All glory, laud, and honor,” was composed by Bishop Theodulph of Orleans in a prison cell, probably in the year 821. The immortal Veni, Creator Spiritus also dates from the same period, being usually ascribed to Rhabanus Maurus, archbishop of Mainz, who died in the year 856.

The religious fervor inspired by the Crusades, which began in the year 1098, resulted in the production during the twelfth century of Latin poetry of singular lyrical beauty. This may be regarded as the golden age of Latin hymnody.

It was during this period that the most touching of all Good Friday hymns, “O sacred Head, now wounded,” was written. It is ascribed to Bernard of Clairvaux, preacher of the Second Crusade, and one of the most brilliant of Latin hymn-writers.

Although composed in the twelfth century, the hymn did not achieve unusual fame until five centuries later, when it was rendered into German by the greatest of all Lutheran hymnists, Paul Gerhardt. Lauxmann has well said: “Bernard’s original is powerful and searching, but Gerhardt’s hymn is still more powerful and profound, as re-drawn from the deeper spring of evangelical Lutheran, Scriptural knowledge and fervency of faith.”

Gerhardt’s version in turn was translated into English by James W. Alexander of Princeton, a Presbyterian. Thus, as Dr. Philip Schaff puts it: “This classic hymn has shown in three tongues—Latin, German and English—and in three confessions—Roman, Lutheran and Reformed—with equal effect the dying love of our Saviour and our boundless indebtedness to Him.”

Yet another Lutheran, none other than John Sebastian Bach, “high priest of church music,” has contributed to the fame of the hymn by giving the gripping tune to which it is sung its present form. Strangely enough, this remarkable minor melody was originally a rather frivolous German folksong, and was adapted by Hans Leo Hassler in 1601 to the hymn, “Herzlich thut mich verlangen.” It was Bach, however, who moulded the tune into the “Passion Chorale,” one of the world’s masterpieces of sacred music.

Many touching stories have been recorded concerning this famous hymn. In 1798, when Christian Schwartz, the great Lutheran missionary to India, lay dying, his Indian pupils gathered around his bed and sang in their own Malabar tongue the last verses of the hymn, Schwartz himself joining in the singing till his voice was silenced in death.

Of Bernard of Clairvaux, the writer of the hymn, volumes might be written. Luther paid him an eloquent tribute, when he said: “If there has ever been a pious monk who feared God it was St. Bernard, whom alone I hold in much higher esteem than all other monks and priests throughout the globe.”

Probably no preacher ever exerted a more profound influence over the age in which he lived than did this Cistercian monk. It was the death of his mother, when he was twenty years old, that seemed to have

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