Hark! The Redeemer from on High

Hark! the Re­deem­er from on high

Sweetly invites His fa­vo­rites nigh;

From caves of dark­ness and of doubt

He gent­ly speaks and calls us out:

“My dove

who hid­est in the rock

Thine heart al­most with sor­row broke

Lift up thy face

for­get thy fear

And let thy voice de­light Mine ear.

Thy voice to Me sounds ev­er sweet.

My grac­es in thy coun­te­nance meet;

Tho’ the vain world thy face des­pise

’Tis bright and come­ly in mine eyes.

Dear Lord

our thank­ful heart re­ceives

The hope Thine in­vi­ta­tion gives;

To Thee our joy­ful lips shall raise

The voice of pray­er and of praise.

I am my love’s

and He is mine;

Our hearts

our hopes

our pass­ions join;

Nor let a mo­tion

nor a word

Nor thought arise

to grieve my Lord.

My soul to pas­tures fair He leads

Amongst the li­lies where He feeds;

Amongst the saints—whose robes are white

Washed in His blood—is His de­light.

Till day­break come and sha­dows flee

Till sweet re­turn­ing dawn I see

Thine eyes to me-ward oft­en turn

Nor let my soul in dark­ness mourn.

Be like a hart on mount­ains green

Leap ov­er hills of fear and sin;

Nor guilt

nor un­be­lief

di­vide

My love

my Sav­ior

from my side.