Himne Indonesia

Markus 11:17

Himne Inggris

Mazmur 79:1

• [Mzm 79:1] In Thy Heritage The Heathen

  In Thy heritage the heathen Now, O God, triumphant stand; They defile Thy holy temple, They destroy Thy chosen land; Ruthless, they have slain Thy servants, They have caused Thy saints to mourn; In the sight of all about us We endure reproach and scorn. O how long against Thy people Shall Thine anger burn, O Lord? On Thine enemies, the heathen, Be Thine indignation poured; Smite the kingdoms that defy Thee, Calling not upon Thy Name; They have long devoured Thy people And have swept Thy land with flame. O remember not against us Evil by our fathers wrought; Haste to help us in Thy mercy Near to ruin we are brought; Help us, God of our salvation, For the glory of Thy Name; For Thy Name’s sake come and save us, Take away our sin and shame. Let Thy foes no longer scorn Thee, Now avenge Thy servants slain; Loose the prisoner, save the dying, All Thine enemies restrain; Then Thy flock, Thy chosen people, Unto Thee their thanks shall raise, And to every generation We will sing Thy glorious praise.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Mzm 79:1] Remember Not, O God

  Remember not, O God, The sins of long ago; In tender mercy visit us, Distressed and humbled low. O Lord, our Savior, help, And glorify Thy Name; Deliver us from all our sins, And take away our shame. In Thy compassion hear Thy prisoner’s plaintive sigh, And in the greatness of Thy power Save those about to die. Then, safe within Thy fold, We will exalt Thy Name; Our thankful hearts with songs of joy Thy goodness will proclaim.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

Markus 11:17

• [Mrk 11:17] Thy Mansion Is The Christian’s Heart

  Thy mansion is the Christian’s heart, O Lord, Thy dwelling-place secure! Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door. Devoted as it is to Thee, A thievish swarm frequents the place; They steal away my joys from me, And rob my Savior of His praise. There too a sharp designing trade Sin, Satan, and the world, maintain; Nor cease to press me, and persuade, To part with ease and purchase pain. I know them, and I hate their din, Am weary of the bustling crowd; But while their voice is heard within, I cannot serve Thee as I would. O! for the joy Thy presence gives, What peace shall reign when Thou art here! Thy presence makes this den of thieves, A calm delightful house of prayer. And if Thou make Thy temple thine, Yet, self-abased, will I adore; The gold and silver are not mine, I give Thee what was Thine before.

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  source: Cyberhymnal