Archives for April 23, 2016

Devotion

My song is love unknown,
my Savior's love to me,
love to the loveless shown
that they might lovely be.
Oh, who am I that for my sake
my Lord should take frail flesh and die?

He came from his blest throne
salvation to bestow;
the world that was his own
would not its Savior know.
But, oh, my friend, my friend indeed,
who at my need his life did spend!

Sometimes we strew his way
and his sweet praises sing;
resounding all the day
hosannas to our king.
Then "Crucify!" is all our breath,
and for his death we thirst and cry.

We cry out; we will have
our dear Lord made away,
a murderer to save,
the prince of life to slay.
Yet cheerful he to suff'ring goes
that he his foes from thence might free.

In life no house, no home
my Lord on earth might have;
in death no friendly tomb
but what a stranger gave.
What may I say? Heav'n was his home
but mine the tomb wherein he lay.

Here might I stay and sing—
no story so divine!
Never was love, dear King,
never was grief like thine.
This is my friend, in whose sweet praise
I all my days could gladly spend!

While we can find this hymn in the ELW, the version in the former LBW (94) carried a different, more familiar tune. John Edwards, the composer of the tune Rhosymedre (originally called Lovely) served for some years as vicar of Rhosymedre, Ruabon, in North Wales. Although he wrote a considerable amount of music, he is chiefly remembered for this tune. Ralph Vaughan Williams has written a beautiful organ prelude on this hymn. It is a marvelous hymn, so inclusive of Lenten imagery, and placed in a wonderful musical setting.

The author of the text, Samuel Crossman, served an Anglican congregation and a Puritan congregation as well. His text captures fully the Christian’s embrace of the fullness of Christ's life, as in stanza six—"Never was love, dear King, never was grief like thine." It is a marvelous hymn, so inclusive of Lenten imagery, carrying the text with all its richness by a flowing stream of notes.