Navigation for Hymns on Sunday

Birch branches, New Zealand.

Birch branches, New Zealand. Photo: CC0 Public Domain


Artist: Choir of Westminster Abbey
Words/Music: trans Winkworth/Neander
Recording: Hyperion 712801

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation.
O my soul, praise him, for he is thy health and salvation:
All ye who hear,
brothers and sisters draw near,
praise him in glad adoration.

Praise to the Lord, who o'er all things so wondrously reigneth
shelters thee under his wings, yea, so gently sustaineth:
hast thou not seen
all that his people have been
granted in what he ordaineth?

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee;
surely his goodness and mercy here daily attend thee:
ponder anew
what the Almighty can do,
if with his love he befriend thee.

Praise to the Lord! O let all that is in me adore him!
All that hath life and breath come now with praises before him!
Let the Amen
sound from his people again:
gladly for aye we adore him.


Artist: Scottish Philharmonic singers
Words/Music: Dodderidge/M Haydn
Recording: Abbey 282830

O God of Bethel, by whose hand
Thy people still are fed,
Who through this weary pilgrimage
Hast all our fathers led.

Our vows, our prayers, we now present
Before thy throne of grace;
God of our fathers, be the God
Of their succeeding race.

Through each perplexing path of life
Our wandering footsteps guide;
Give us each day our daily bread,
And raiment fit provide.

O spread thy covering wings around
Till all our wanderings cease,
And at our father’s loved abode
Our souls arrive in peace.

Such blessings from Thy gracious hand
Our humble prayers implore;
And Thou shalt be our chosen God,
Our portion evermore.


Artist: Cambridge Singers, John Rutter (dir), John Scott (organ)
Words/Music: Watts/Miller arr Rutter
Recording: Collegium 880126

When I survey the wondrous cross
on which the Prince of glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss,
and pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
save in the death of Christ, my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them through his blood.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown?

His dying crimson, like a robe,
spreads o'er his body on the tree;
then am I dead to all the globe,
and all the globe is dead to me.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
that were a present far too small.
Love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all.


Artist: Cambridge Singers
Words/Music: Andrewe/Rutter
Recording: Collegium 801100

Open thou mine eyes and I shall see,
incline my heart and I shall desire,
order my steps and I shall walk
In the ways of thy commandments.

Open thou mine eyes and I shall see,
incline my heart and I shall desire,
order my steps and I shall walk
In the ways of thy commandments.

O Lord God, be thou to me a God
and beside thee let there be none else,
no other, naught else with thee.
Vouchsafe to me to worship thee and serve thee
according to thy commandments
in truth of spirit,
in reverence of body,
in blessing of lips,
in private and in public.
Open thou mine eyes and I shall see,
incline my heart and I shall desire,
order my steps and I shall walk
in the ways of thy commandments.


Artist: Upper Norwood Salvation Army Band
Words/Music: Lemmel
Recording: Word SALCD 002

[instrumental only]

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.


Artist: Lincoln Cathedral Choir, Aric Prentice (conductor), Charles Harrison (organ)
Words/Music: Havergal/Ireland
Recording: Naxos 8.573014

I am trusting thee, Lord, Jesus,
Trusting only thee;
Trusting thee for full salvation,
Great and free.

I am trusting thee for pardon;
At thy feet I bow;
For thy grace and tender mercy,
Trusting now.

I am trusting thee for cleansing
In the crimson flood;
Trusting thee to make me holy
By thy blood.

I am trusting thee to guide me;
Thou alone shalt lead;
Every day and hour supplying
All my need.

I am trusting thee for power,
Thine can never fail;
Words which thou thyself shalt give me
Must prevail.

I am trusting thee, Lord Jesus;
Never let me fall;
I am trusting thee forever,
And for all.


Artist: Scottish Festival Singers
Words/Music: Havergal/Mountain
Recording: Whole World Media Group

Like a river glorious is God's perfect peace,
over all victorious in its bright increase:
perfect, yet it floweth fuller every day;
perfect, yet it groweth deeper all the way.

Stayed upon Jehovah
Hearts are fully blessed
Finding, as He promised,
Perfect peace and rest.

Hidden in the hollow of His blessed hand,
Never foe can follow, never traitor stand;
Not a surge of worry, not a shade of care,
Not a blast of hurry touch the spirit there.

Every joy or trial falleth from above,
Traced upon our dial by the Sun of Love;
We may trust Him fully all for us to do;
They who trust Him wholly find Him wholly true.


Artist: Wells Cathedral Choir, Malcolm Archer (dir), Rupert Gough (organ)
Words/Music: Perry/Tredennick
Recording: Hyperion 112101

Like a mighty river flowing,
like a flower in beauty growing,
far beyond all human knowing
is the perfect peace of God.

Like the hills serene and even,
like the coursing clouds of heaven,
like the heart that's been forgiven
is the perfect peace of God.

Like the summer breezes playing,
like the tall trees softly swaying,
like the lips of silent praying
is the perfect peace of God.

Like the morning sun ascended,
like the scents of evening blended,
like a friendship never ended
is the perfect peace of God.

Like the azure ocean swelling,
like the jewel all-excelling,
far beyond our human telling
is the perfect peace of God.


Artist: Huddersfield Choral Society
Composer: Boberg trans Hine/Trad
Label: Signum 2006

O Lord my God! When I in awesome wonder
Consider all the works thy hand hath made.
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, my saviour God, to thee;
How great thou art, how great thou art!

And when I think that God, his son not sparing,
Sent him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin:

When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
Then shall I bow in humble adoration,
And there proclaim, my God, how great thou art!