Himne Indonesia

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Himne Inggris

Mazmur 137:3-6

• [Mzm 137:4] Creator Of The World, To Thee

  Creator of the world, to Thee And endless rest of joy belongs; And heavenly choirs are ever free To sing on high their festal songs. But we are fallen creatures here, Where pain and sorrow daily come; And how can we in exile drear Sing out, as they, sweet songs of Home? O Father, who dost promise still That they who mourn shall blessèd be, Grant us to weep for deeds of ill That banish us so long from Thee. But weeping, grant us faith to rest In hope upon Thy loving care; Till Thou restore us, with the blest, Their songs of praise in Heav’n to share. To Father, Son and Holy Ghost, The God Whom Heav’n and earth adore, From men and from the angel host Be praise and glory evermore.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Mzm 137:5] I Love Thy Kingdom, Lord

  I love Thy kingdom, Lord, The house of Thine abode, The church our blessed Redeemer saved With His own precious blood. I love Thy church, O God. Her walls before Thee stand, Dear as the apple of Thine eye, And written on Thy hand. If e’er to bless Thy sons My voice or hands deny, These hands let useful skills forsake, This voice in silence die. Should I with scoffers join Her altars to abuse? No! Better far my tongue were dumb, My hand its skill should lose. For her my tears shall fall For her my prayers ascend, To her my cares and toils be given Till toils and cares shall end. Beyond my highest joy I prize her heavenly ways, Her sweet communion, solemn vows, Her hymns of love and praise. Jesus, Thou Friend divine, Our Savior and our King, Thy hand from every snare and foe Shall great deliverance bring. Sure as Thy truth shall last, To Zion shall be given The brightest glories earth can yield And brighter bliss of Heaven.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Mzm 137:5] Far From My Heavenly Home

  Far from my heavenly home, Far from my Father’s breast, Fainting I cry, blest Spirit, come And speed me to my rest. Upon the willows long My harp has silent hung: How should I sing a cheerful song Till Thou inspire my tongue? My spirit homeward turns And fain would thither flee; My heart, O Zion, droops and yearns, When I remember thee. To thee, to thee I press, A dark and toilsome road; When shall I pass the wilderness, And reach the saint’s abode? God of my life, be near; On Thee my hopes I cast: O guide me through the desert here, And bring me home at last.

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  source: Cyberhymnal