Categories
Congregational Song

Forgotten Hymn Series: Part 3, “God the Saints Dwelling Place”

The purpose of this series is to rediscover and share forgotten hymns of the faith. I encourage you to both read and deeply ponder the text of this hymn. Further, I hope this hymn will provide opportunity for dialogue.

A Hymn by Benjamin Keach (1640–1704)

“God the Saints Dwelling Place”

Psalm 90:1

Thy saints Lord have a dwelling strong

    And thou that dwelling art,

No habitation like to this,

    Hath any haughty heart.

For ’tis the low and humble soul

    That in the Lord does dwell:

Where such do rest, and have repose,

    This dwelling doth excell.

A house, ah ’tis our home always,

    And when we absent be:

How do we long for to return,

    So do our soul till we

Return again unto our God,

    When we from thee do stray:

O bring us to our bless’d abode,

   Christ Jesus is the way.

We here no perfect rest shall find,

    Until we fixed are

In our brave house that is above,

    No palace like to it here.

The Second Part

A House preserves from heat and cold,

    From winds and cruel storms;

Those who Lord dwell in thee are bold,

    Being safe from fear of harms.

And in our house our comforts lie,

    And all our chiefest treasure:

God is our joy, our souls delight,

    In whom is sweetest pleasure.

Propriety unto a house

    Doth make it valued;

Our interest in our God, alone,

    Makes us lift up our head.

In a great house are many rooms

To dine and also lye,

Fare secret chambers also we

    Do in thee clearly Spy.

Each attribute is as a room

    Whither thy saints do go

By precious acts of faith, and then

    Nothing they fear below.

Another house, tho stately ’tis,

    It may be batter’d down;

But thou art such a house, o Lord,

    That can’t be overthrown.

Hast then away to your abode,

    Let all with speed hast home,

For dreadful storms you may expect

    Will very quickly come.

The Third Part (Chambers of Safety)

O come, o come, God’s people all,

    With speed hast ye away,

Enter your chambers great and small,

    No longer do you stay:

For God, the mighty God above,

    Is rising out of’s place,

And will the hills and mountains move,

    And vengeance pour apace.

There is a way found out that ye

    May be secured,

When sinners shall consumed be

    Who basely are misled.

Doth it not thunder afar off,

    It lightens also fore:

O tremble all, and do not scoff,

    For hark ’tis more and more.

Children get home, and do not stay,

    Hast to your dwelling place;

For if you make the least delay,

    Then sad may be your case.

All who abroad or in the fields

    Do foolishly remain,

They may as the Egyptians were,

    Be ruined and slain.

Benjamin Keach, Spiritual Melody, 6–9

Categories
Congregational Song

Forgotten Hymn Series: Part 1, “A Father doth His Child Beget”

The purpose of this series is to rediscover and share forgotten hymns of the faith. I encourage you to both read and deeply ponder the text of this hymn. Further, I hope this hymn will provide opportunity for dialogue.

A Hymn by Benjamin Keach (1640–1704)

Matthew 5:16

A father doth his child beget,

    So we begotten are,

By thy own Word and Spirit Lord,

    And do thine image bear.

He likewise doth his children cloath,

    And doth them also love;

So thou most richly cloaths all such

    That are born from above.

A father feeds and does protect

    Such who his children be:

So thou dost feed and save all those

    Who do belong to thee.

And also doth delight in them

    Who him resemble do:

To such who are most like to thee,

    Thou dost chief favour show.

Second Part

A father loves his children should

    All live in unity;

So thou delights to see thy saints

    Walk in sweet harmony.

He ever does o’relook the faults,

    Which he in them does spy

So all thy people’s faults likewise

    Thou dost, O Lord, pass by.

’Tis a high honour to descend

    From such who noble be;

Kings Children are all but base born,

    To those, Lord, born of thee.

Rich parents may soon poor be made,

    And also they do die:

Thou Lord art rich, and so wilt be

    Unto eternity.

All praise and glory unto God

    Our Father, be therefore:

And unto Christ that ransome’d us,

    Be praise for evermore.

Benjamin Keach, Spiritual Melody, 1–2