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Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church — John Shaqi

Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church

Religion

Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church

Hymns, Greek -- Translations into English; Orthodox Eastern Church -- Hymns

The time is drawing near,
      It cannot tarry long,
    When they who face the conflict here,
      Shall join the glorious throng,

          Where gladness fills each heart,
            And honour crowns each brow;--
          For tireless service fit me, Lord,
            By willing service now.

                                   II

    Let no depressing thought
      My brooding mind depress;
    But let me hear, in winning tones,
      What they who serve possess,

          Where gladness fills each heart, etc.

                                   III

    Let sunshine flood the soul,
      When threatening night descends,
    That I may see the light serene
      No sunset ever ends.

          Where gladness fills each heart, etc.

                                   IV

    Let strength my spirit nerve,
      That, with each labour done,
    I may, like those who serve above,
      See some new task begun;

          Where gladness fills each heart, etc.

                                    V

    The time is drawing near,--
      Till that bright morning break,
    May I, with those who see Thy face,
      Thy will, my pleasure make:

          Where gladness fills each heart, etc.




                                    I

    I will not yield my sword,
      I will not bow the knee,
    But I would hear the blessed word
      That calls my soul to Thee;
    And through the din of war,
      And in the midst of strife,
    That word shall be the guiding star
      To lead me on to life.

                                   II

    And in the midst of snares
      Which subtle fingers lay,
    I shall not stumble unawares
      Upon the upward way;
    But keep before my eyes
      The goal before me set,
    Lest I should miss the glorious prize
      Which loyal victors get.

                                   III

    O Christ, Who art my King,
      Thy cause I make mine own,
    Till proud rebellious foes shall bring
      Their homage to Thy throne;
    Till then my heart revive
      With courage brave and strong,
    And steel my feeble arm to strive
      Against the power of wrong.

                                   IV

    When from the fateful field
      I hail my rightful King,
    To Him my trusty sword I'll yield,
      And all my trophies bring;
    And He shall crown my head
      With honours richer far
    Than trophies from the conquered dead,
      And all the spoils of war.




                                    I

    If in the cause of right I must,
      Do battle with the sword,
    Then, let me follow Him I trust,
      My chosen King and Lord.

                                   II

    As Captain in the mortal fight,
      He knows the foe I fear;
    His presence fires my soul with might,
      And fills my heart with cheer.

                                   III

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Hymns from the Morningland: Being Translations, Centos and Suggestions from the Service Books of the Holy Eastern Church

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