Isaiah 25:1

• [Isa 25:1] Mine, Still Mine

  Thro’ scenes of joy or sorrow, Jesus still is mine; Thro’ ev’ry new tomorrow, He will still be mine. Refrain My Savior faileth never; O how His glories shine, I’ll sing it out forever, He is mine, still mine. Thro’ earthly tribulation, Jesus still is mine; My strength and consolation, He is mine, still mine. Refrain Tho’ lost, some fleeting treasure, Jesus still is mine; With love beyond all measure, He is mine, still mine. Refrain My Shepherd goes before me, Jesus still is mine; Beyond the vale, His glory! He will still be mine. Refrain

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  source: Cyberhymnal

Isaiah 27:12

• [Isa 27:12] A Few More Marchings Weary

  A few more marchings weary, then we’ll gather home! A few more storm clouds dreary, then we’ll gather home! A few more days the cross to bear, And then with Christ a crown to wear; A few more marchings weary, then we’ll gather home! Refrain O’er time’s rapid river, soon we’ll rest forever; No more marchings weary when we gather home! A few more nights of weeping, then we’ll gather home! A few more watches keeping, then we’ll gather home! A few more vict’ries over sin, A few more sheaves to gather in, A few more marchings weary, then we’ll gather home! Refrain A few more sweet links broken, then we’ll gather home! A few more kind words spoken, then we’ll gather home! A few more partings on the strand, And then away to Canaan’s land: A few more marchings weary, then we’ll gather home! Refrain

  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Isa 27:12] Garnered Sheaves

  At the feet of the Blessèd Master We would lay our garnered sheaves; When we come, and all empty handed, Surely sore the Master grieves! Refrain Garnered sheaves from the fields so white to harvest! Garnered sheaves richly yields life’s golden harvest! At the feet of the Blessèd Master We would lay our garnered sheaves. While the fields then are white with harvest, And the laborers are few, Let us strive well to fill the garner, And be reapers staunch and true. Refrain O the joy of successful labor! O the joy of work well done! O the joy of the Master’s praises To the soul whose crown is won! Refrain

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  source: Cyberhymnal

Isaiah 45:8

• [Isa 45:8] Rorate

  Rorate coeli desuper! Heavens, distil your balmy showers; For now is risen the bright Daystar, From the rose Mary, flower of flowers: The clear Sun, whom no cloud devours, Surmounting Phoebus in the east, Is comen of His heav’nly towers, Et nobis puer natus est. Sinners be glad, and penance do, And thank your Maker heartfully; For He that ye might not come to, To you is comen, fully humbly, Your soulès with His blood to buy, And loose you of the fiend’s arrest, And only of His own mercy; Pro nobis puer natus est. Celestial fowlès in the air, Sing with your notès upon the height, In firthès and in forests fair Be mirthful now at all your might; For passèd is your dully night; Aurora has the cloudès pierced, The sun is risen with gladsome light, Et nobis puer natus est. Sing, heaven imperial, most of height, Regions of air make harmony, All fish in flood and fowl of flight, Be mirthful and make melody; All Gloria in excelsis cry, Heaven, earth, sea, man, bird and beast; He that is crowned above the sky Pro nobis puer natus est.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

Isaiah 51:9

• [Isa 51:9] Arm Of The Lord, Awake!

  Arm of the Lord, awake, awake! Put on Thy strength, the nations shake, And let the world, adoring, see Triumphs of mercy wrought by Thee. Say to the heathen from Thy throne, “I am Jehovah, God alone”; Thy voice their idols shall confound, And cast their altars to the ground. No more let creature blood be spilt, Vain sacrifice for human guilt! But to each conscience be applied The blood that flowed from Jesus’ side. Let Zion’s time of favor come; O bring the tribes of Israel home; And let our wondering eyes behold Gentiles and Jews in Jesus’ fold. Almighty God, Thy grace proclaim In every clime of every name; Let adverse powers before Thee fall, And crown the Savior Lord of all.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Isa 51:9] Arm Of The Lord, Awake, Awake!

  Arm of the Lord, awake, awake! Thine own immortal strength put on! With terror clothed, hell’s kingdom shake, And cast Thy foes with fury down! As in the ancient days appear! The sacred annals speak Thy fame: Be now omnipotently near, To endless ages still the same. Thy arm, Lord, is not shortened now, It wants not now the power to save; Still present with Thy people, Thou Bear’st them through life’s disparted wave. By death and hell pursued in vain, To Thee the ransomed seed shall come, Shouting their heavenly Zion gain, And pass through death triumphant home. The pain of life shall there be o’er, The anguish and distracting care, There sighing grief shall weep no more, And sin shall never enter there. Where pure, essential joy is found, The Lord’s redeemed their heads shall raise, With everlasting gladness crowned, And filled with love, and lost in praise.

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  source: Cyberhymnal