From The Hymns Of The Rev William Williams, Pantycelyn
he inherited from his ancestors, was born in the parish of Llanfair-on-
the-hill, in Carmarthenshire, in the year 1717. He was educated for the
ministry, and appointed to the Curacy of Llanwrtyd and Abergwesyn, in
Breconshire, in 1740. After serving for about three years he became a
convert to the Welsh Puritanism of the period, introduced by the
eloquence and piety of the Revs. Daniel Rowlands of Llangeitho, and Howel
Church, with whom he became a successful co-operator, not only as an
eloquent preacher, but especially as the most celebrated Hymnist of
Wales. This eminent man died in 1791, and his hymns were published by
his son in 1811, and Mr. Mackenzie, of Glasgow, issued a superb edition
of his works with biography in 1868.]
Hasten, Israel! from the desert
After tarrying there so long,
Milk and honey, wine and welcome
Wait you 'mong the ransom'd throng;
Wear your arms, advance to warfare,
Onward go, and bravely fight,
Fair the land, and there shall lead you
Cloud by day and flame by night.
Babel's waters are so bitter,
There is nought but weeping still,
Zion's harps, so sweet and tuneful,
Do my heart with rapture fill:
Bring thou us a joyful gathering
From the dread captivity,
And until on Zion's mountain
Let there be no rest for me.
In this land I am a stranger,
Yonder is my native home,
Far beyond the stormy billows,
Where the flowers of Canaan bloom:
Tempests wild from sore temptation
Did my vessel long detain,
Speed, ye gentle southern breezes,
Aid me soon to cross the main.
* * * * *
Jesus--thou my only pleasure,
Naught like thee this world contains;
In thy name is greater treasure,
Than in India's golden plains;
And this treasure,
Jesus' love for me obtains.
Jesus, lovely is the aspect
Of thy gracious face divine;
Eye hath seen no fairer object,
On this beauteous world of thine,
Rose of Sharon,
Heaven's glories in thee shine.
Jesus, shield from sin's dark errors,
Name which every foe o'ercomes;
Death, the dreaded king of terrors,
Death itself to thee succumbs.
Thou hast conquered,
Joyful praise my soul becomes.
* * * * *
Fix, O Lord, a tent in Goshen,
Thither come and there abide,
Bow thyself from light celestial,
And with sinful man reside.
Dwell in Zion, there continue,
Where the holy tribes ascend;
Do not e'er desert thy people,
Till the world in flames shall end.
I am through the lone night waiting,
For the dawning of the day;
When my prison door is opened,
When my fetters fall away;
O come quickly,
Happy day of jubilee.
Let me still be meekly wakeful,
Trusting that to all my woes,
By thy mighty hand, Redeemer,
Shall be given a speedy close;
Keep me watching,
For the joyful jubilee.
* * * * *
O'er the gloomy hills of darkness,
Look, my soul, be still and gaze;
All the promises do travail,
With a glorious day of grace;
Blessed jubilee,
May thy morning dawn apace.
Let the Indian, let the Negro,
Let the rude Barbarian see
That divine and Godlike conquest,
Once obtained on Calvary;
Let the gospel,
Loud resound from pole to pole.
* * * * *
Kingdoms wide, that sit in darkness,
Grant them, Lord, the saving light;
And from eastern coast to western,
May the morning chase the night;
Pouring radiance,
As if one day sevenfold bright.
Blessed Saviour, spread thy gospel,
Ride and conquer, never cease;
May thy wide, thy vast dominions,
Multiply and still increase;
Sway thy sceptre,
Saviour, all the world around.
* * * * *
O'er the earth, in every nation,
Reign, Jehovah, in each place;
Take all kingdoms in possession,
Heathen darkness thence displace;
Fill each people,
Sun of Righteousness, with grace.
Oh! ye heralds of salvation,
Jesus' mercy far proclaim;
Bear, ye seas, the sacred mission,
Till the pagan bless his name;
Let the gospel
Fly on wings of heavenly flame.
Let all those in deserts dwelling,
All on hills--in dales around,
Those who live 'midst oceans swelling,
Jesus' glorious praises sound;
Till the echo
Of his name the world surround.
* * * * *
Ride in triumph, holy Saviour,
Go and conquer o'er the land;
Earth and hell, with all their forces,
Now before thee cannot stand;
At the radiance of thy glory,
Every foe must flee away;
All creation thrills with terror
Under thine eternal sway.
Aid me, Lord, always to tarry
In my Father's courts below;
Live in light divine and glorious,
Without darkness, without woe;
Live without the sun's departure,
Live without a cloud or pain;
Live on Jesus' love unconquer'd,
Who on Calvary was slain.
Let me view the great atonement,
And the kingdom that is mine,
Which thy blood hath purchased for me,
Sealed also as divine;
Let me daily strive to find it,
Let this be my chief employ;
On my way I ask no favour
But thy presence to enjoy.
* * * * *
Great Redeemer, Friend of sinners,
Thou hast glorious power to save,
Grant me light and still conduct me
Over each tempestuous wave;
May my soul with sacred transport
View the dawn while yet afar,
And until the sun arises,
Lead me by the morning star.
* * * * *
O what madness, O what folly,
That my thoughts should go astray,
After toys and empty pleasures,
Pleasures only for a day;
This vain world with all its treasures,
Very soon will be no more,
There's no object worth admiring,
But the God whom I adore.
* * * * *
I look beyond the distant hills,
My Saviour dear to see;
O come, Beloved, ere the dusk,
My sun doth set on me.
Methinks that were my feet released
From these afflicting chains,
I would but sing of Calvary,
Nor think of all my pains.
I long for thy divine abode,
Where sinless myriads dwell,
Who ceaseless sing thy boundless love,
And all thy glories tell.
* * * * *
My soul's delight I will proclaim,
O! Jesus 'tis thy face;
Each letter of thy holy name,
Is full of life and grace.
Beneath thy wing, thou Saviour meek,
I would for ever be;
No other pleasure vainly seek,
My God, than loving thee.
Thy strength alone supports each day
My footsteps, lest I fall;
And thy salvation is my stay,
My joy, my song, my all.
Than combs of honey sweeter is
Thy favour to enjoy;
In life, in death, no joy than this
Will last without alloy.
* * * * *
Angelic throngs unnumbered,
As dawn's bright drops of dew,
Present their crowns before Him
With praises ever new;
But saints and angels blending
Their songs above the sun,
Can ne'er express the glories
Of God with man made one.
* * * * *
Direct unto my God,
With speed, my cry ascend;
Present to Him this urgent plea:--
"In mercy, Lord, attend!
Fulfil thy gracious word,
To bring me to thy rest;
In Salem soon my place prepare,
And make me ever blest!"
Down in a vale of tears,
Where dwelt my Christ I mourn,
And in the conflict with my foes,
My tender heart is torn;
O heal each bleeding wound,
With thy life-giving tree;
In Salem, Lord, above the strife,
A place prepare for me!"
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