All Things are Thine {Lyrics: John G. Whittier. Composer: Samuel Webbe, Sr., 1782.}
All things are Thine; no gift have we,
Lord of all gifts, to offer Thee:
And hence with grateful hearts today
Thine own before Thy feet we lay.
Thy will was in the builders’ thought;
Thy hand unseen amidst us wrought;
Through mortal motive, scheme and plan
Thy wise eternal purpose ran.
In weakness and in want we call
On Thee for Whom the heavens are small;
Thy glory is Thy children’s good,
Thy joy Thy tender Fatherhood.
O Father, deign these walls to bless;
Fill with Thy love their emptiness;
And let their door a gateway be
To lead us from ourselves to Thee.
We Worship You, our Loving Lord of Grace.
Help us, King Jesus, to Live to Thine Excellent Praise.
Be Glorified, Your Majesty! Be Exalted in Your Mercies and Love.
Unto Him that Loved us, and Washed us from our Sins in His Own Blood,
And hath Made us Kings and Priests unto God and His Father;
To Him be Glory and Dominion Forever and Ever! (Rev.1:6)
We Love You, our Father, and Pray in our Jesus' Name, amen.
Lord, we love you, though with imperfect love.
When the ugliness of this world and its rebellion against you assaults my eyes and ears and heart, I fly to the great hope of your soon return.
It fills me with joy and cleanses me to think on your Word and your promises which are Yes and Amen in Christ Jesus.
I lift a voice of praise to you and longing for your triumphant conclusion of all things.
Be exalted in all the earth.
Come quickly, Lord Jesus.
Psa 57:5 Be thou exalted, O God, above the heavens; let thy glory be above all the earth.
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/w/a/wakeawak.htm
Wake, awake, for night is flying;
The watchmen on the heights are crying:
Awake, Jerusalem, at last!
Midnight hears the welcome voices
And at the thrilling cry rejoices;
Come forth, ye virgins, night is past;
The Bridegroom comes, awake;
Your lamps with gladness take;
Alleluia! And for His marriage feast prepare
For ye must go and meet Him there.
Zion hears the watchmen singing,
And all her heart with joy is springing;
She wakes, she rises from her gloom;
For her Lord comes down all glorious,
The strong in grace, in truth victorious.
Her Star is risen, her Light is come.
Ah come, Thou blessèd One, God’s own belovèd Son:
Alleluia! We follow till the halls we see
Where Thou hast bid us sup with Thee.
Now let all the heavens adore Thee,
And saints and angels sing before Thee,
With harp and cymbal’s clearest tone;
Of one pearl each shining portal,
Where we are with the choir immortal
Of angels round Thy dazzling throne;
Nor eye hath seen, nor ear hath yet attained to hear
What there is ours, but we rejoice and sing to Thee
Our hymn of joy eternally.
—Philipp Nicolai, 1599