Himne Indonesia

Yakobus 3:1-18

Himne Inggris

Zefanya 1:1-18

• [Zef 1:14] The King Shall Come When Morning Dawns

  The King shall come when morning dawns, And light triumphant breaks; When beauty gilds the eastern hills, And life to joy awakes. Not as of old a little child To bear, and fight, and die, But crowned with glory like the sun That lights the morning sky. O brighter than the rising morn When He, victorious, rose, And left the lonesome place of death, Despite the rage of foes. O brighter than that glorious morn Shall this fair morning be, When Christ, our King, in beauty comes, And we His face shall see. The King shall come when morning dawns, And earth’s dark night is past; O haste the rising of that morn, The day that aye shall last. And let the endless bliss begin, By weary saints foretold, When right shall triumph over wrong, And truth shall be extolled. The King shall come when morning dawns, And light and beauty brings: Hail, Christ the Lord! Thy people pray, Come quickly, King of kings.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Zef 1:15] Day Of Wrath, O Day Of Mourning

  Day of wrath, O day of mourning! See fulfilled the prophet’s warning, Heaven and earth in ashes burning. Oh, what fear man’s bosom rendeth When from Heav’n the Judge descendeth On Whose sentence all dependeth! Wondrous sound the trumpet flingeth, Through earth’s sepulchers it ringeth, All before the throne it bringeth. Death is struck and nature quaking; All creation is awaking, To its Judge an answer making. Lo, the book, exactly worded, Wherein all hath been recorded; Thence shall judgment be awarded. When the Judge His seat attaineth And each hidden deed arraigneth, Nothing unavenged remaineth. What shall I, frail man, be pleading? Who for me be interceding When the just are mercy needing? King of majesty tremendous, Who dost free salvation send us, Fount of pity, then befriend us. Think, good Jesus, my salvation Caused Thy wondrous incarnation; Leave me not to reprobation! Faint and weary Thou hast sought me, On the cross of suffering bought me; Shall such grace be vainly brought me? Righteous Judge, for sin’s pollution Grant Thy gift of absolution Ere that day of retribution! Guilty, now I pour my moaning, All my shame with anguish owning: Spare, O God, Thy suppliant groaning! From that sinful woman shriven, From the dying thief forgiven, Thou to me a hope hast given. Worthless are my prayers and sighing; Yet, good Lord, in grace complying, Rescue me from fires undying. With Thy favored sheep, oh, place me! Nor among the goats abase me, But to Thy right hand upraise me. While the wicked are confounded, Doomed to flames of woe unbounded, Call me, with Thy saints surrounded. Low I kneel with heart submission, See, like ashes, my contrition; Help me in my last condition! Day of sorrow, day of weeping, When, in dust no longer sleeping, Man awakes in Thy dread keeping! To the rest Thou didst prepare me On Thy cross; O Christ, upbear me! Spare, O God, in mercy spare me!

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Zef 1:15] Day Of Wrath, O Dreadful Day!

  Day of wrath, O dreadful day! When this world shall pass away, And the heavens together roll, Shriveling like a parchèd scroll, Long foretold by saint and sage, David’s harp and sibyl’s page. Day of terror, day of doom, When at last the Judge shall come! Through the deep and silent gloom, Shrouding every human tomb, Shall the archangel’s trumpet tone Summon all before the throne. O just Judge, to whom belongs, Vengeance for all earthly wrongs, Grant forgiveness, Lord, at last, Ere the dread account be past; Lo, my sighs, my guilt, my shame! Spare me for Thine own great Name. Thou, who bad’st the sinner cease From her tears and go in peace, Thou, who to the dying thief Spakest pardon and relief, Thou, O Lord, to me hast given, E’en to me, the hope of Heaven.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

Wahyu 16:1-21

• [Why 16:1] Gathering Clouds, With Aspect Dark, The

  The gathering clouds, with aspect dark, A rising storm presage; O! to be hid within the ark, And sheltered from its rage! See the commissioned angel frown! That vial in his hand, Filled with fierce wrath, is pouring down Upon our guilty land! Ye saints, unite in wrestling prayer; If yet there may be hope; Who knows but Mercy yet may spare, And bid the angel stop! Already is the plague begun, And fired with hostile rage; Brethren, by blood and interest one, With brethren now engage. Peace spreads her wings, prepared for flight, And war, with flaming sword, And hasty strides draws nigh, to fight The battles of the Lord. The first alarm, alas, how few, While distant, seem to hear! But they will hear, and tremble too, When God shall send it near. So thunder, o’er the distant hills, Gives but a murm’ring sound, But as the tempest spreads, it fills, And makes the welkin sound. May we, at least, with one consent, Fall low before the throne With tears the nation’s sins lament, The churches, and our own. The humble souls who mourn and pray, The Lord approves and knows; His mark secures them in the day When vengeance strikes his foes.

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  source: Cyberhymnal