Himne Indonesia

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Himne Inggris

Mazmur 89:8

• [Mzm 89:8] Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God Of Hosts

  Holy, holy, holy Lord God of Hosts! When Heav’n and earth, Out of darkness, at Thy Word, Issued into glorious birth, All Thy works before Thee stood, And Thine eye beheld them good, While they sang with sweet accord, Holy, holy, holy, Lord! Holy, holy, holy! Thee One Jehovah evermore, Father, Son, and Spirit, we Dust and ashes, would adore; Lightly by the world esteemed, From that world by Thee redeemed, Sing we here with glad accord, Holy, holy, holy Lord! Holy, holy, holy! All Heaven’s triumphant choirs shall sing When the ransomed nations fall At the footstool of their King: Then shall saints and seraphim, Hearts and voices, swell one hymn, Round the throne with full accord, Holy, holy, holy Lord!

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  source: Cyberhymnal

Mazmur 89:14

• [Mzm 89:14] Almighty God, Thy Lofty Throne

  Almighty God, Thy lofty throne Has justice for its cornerstone, And shining bright before Thy face Are truth and love and boundless grace. With blessing is the nation crowned Whose people know the joyful sound; They in the light, O Lord, shall live, The light Thy face and favor give. Thy Name with gladness they confess, Exalted in Thy righteousness; Their fame and might to Thee belong, For in Thy favor they are strong. All glory unto God we yield, Jehovah is our Help and Shield; All praise and honor will we bring To Israel’s Holy One, our King.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Mzm 89:14] Trembling Before Thine Awful Throne

  Trembling before Thine awful throne, O Lord, in dust my sins I own; Justice and mercy for my life Contend; O smile, and heal the strife. The Savior smiles; upon my soul New tides of hope tumultuous roll; His voice proclaims my pardon found, Seraphic transport wings the sound. Earth has a joy unknown to Heaven, The newborn peace of sins forgiven; Tears of such pure and deep delight, Ye angels, never dimmed your sight. Ye saw, of old, on chaos rise The beauteous pillars of the skies; Ye know where Morn exulting springs, And Evening folds her drooping wings. Bright heralds of the eternal Will, Abroad His errands ye fulfill; Or, throned in floods of beamy day, Symphonious in His presence play. Loud is the song, the heavenly plain Is shaken with the choral strain; And dying echoes, floating far, Draw music from each chiming star. But I amid your choirs shall shine, And all your knowledge shall be mine: Ye on your harps must lean to hear A secret chord that mine will bear.

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  source: Cyberhymnal