Sunday's Hymn: Of the Father's Love Begotten

Of the Father’s love begotten,
Ere the worlds began to be,
He is Alpha and Omega,
He the source, the ending He,
Of the things that are, that have been,
And that future years shall see,
Evermore and evermore.

At his word the worlds were framèd;
He commanded, it was done:
Heav’n and earth and depths of ocean,
In their threefold order one;
All that grows beneath the shining
Of the moon and burning sun—
Evermore and evermore.

He was found in human fashion,
Death and sorrow here to know,
That the race of Adam’s children,
Doomed by law to endless woe,
May not henceforth die and perish
In the dreadful gulf below—
Evermore and evermore.

O that birth forever blessèd,
When the virgin, full of grace,
By the Holy Ghost conceiving,
Bore the Savior of our race,
And the babe, the world’s Redeemer,
First revealed his sacred face—
Evermore and evermore.

This is he whom seers in old time
Chanted of with one accord,
Whom the voices of the prophets
Promised in their faithful word;
Now he shines, the long-expected;
Let creation praise its Lord—
Evermore and evermore.

O ye heights of Heav’n adore him!
Angel hosts his praises sing!
All dominions bow before him
And exalt our God and King.
Let no tongue on Earth be silent,
Every voice in concert ring—
Evermore and evermore.

Christ! to thee with God the Father,
And O Holy Ghost, to thee,
Hymn and chant and high thanksgiving
And unwearied praises be,
Honor, glory, and dominion,
And eternal victory—
Evermore and evermore.

—Aurelius Prudentius

Sunday's Hymn: Angels From the Realms of Glory

Angels from the realms of glo­ry,
Wing your flight o’er all the earth;
Ye who sang cre­ation’s sto­ry
Now pro­claim Mes­si­ah’s birth.

Refrain

Come and wor­ship, come and wor­ship,
Worship Christ, the new­born king.

Shepherds, in the field abid­ing,
Watching o’er your flocks by night,
God with us is now re­sid­ing;
Yonder shines the in­fant light:

Sages, leave your con­tem­pla­tions,
Brighter vi­sions beam afar;
Seek the great De­sire of na­tions;
Ye have seen His na­tal star.

Saints, be­fore the al­tar bend­ing,
Watching long in hope and fear;
Suddenly the Lord, des­cend­ing,
In His tem­ple shall ap­pear.

Sinners, wrung with true re­pent­ance,
Doomed for guilt to end­less pains,
Justice now re­vokes the sen­tence,
Mercy calls you; break your chains.

Though an in­fant now we view Him,
He shall fill His Fa­ther’s throne,
Gather all the na­tions to Him;
Every knee shall then bow down:

All cre­ation, join in prais­ing
God, the Fa­ther, Spir­it, Son,
Evermore your voic­es rais­ing
To th’eter­nal Three in One.

—James Mont­gom­ery

Sunday's Hymn: O Come, O Come Emmanuel

O come, O come, Em­ma­nu­el,
And ran­som cap­tive Is­ra­el,
That mourns in lone­ly ex­ile here
Until the Son of God ap­pear.

Refrain

Rejoice! Re­joice!
Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Is­ra­el.

O come, Thou Wis­dom from on high,
Who or­der­est all things migh­ti­ly;
To us the path of know­ledge show,
And teach us in her ways to go.

O come, Thou Rod of Jes­se, free
Thine own from Sa­tan’s tyr­an­ny;
From depths of hell Thy peo­ple save,
And give them vic­to­ry ov­er the grave.

O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer
Our spir­its by Thine ad­vent here;
Disperse the gloo­my clouds of night,
And death’s dark sha­dows put to flight.

O come, Thou Key of Da­vid, come,
And op­en wide our hea­ven­ly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to mi­se­ry.

O come, O come, great Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes on Si­nai’s height
In an­cient times once gave the law
In cloud and ma­jes­ty and awe.

O come, Thou Root of Jes­se’s tree,
An en­sign of Thy peo­ple be;
Before Thee rul­ers si­lent fall;
All peo­ples on Thy mer­cy call.

O come, De­sire of na­tions, bind
In one the hearts of all man­kind;
Bid Thou our sad di­vi­sions cease,
And be Thy­self our king of Peace.

—Author unknown, translated from Latin by John M. Neale