Rise up, my spouse, thy bridegroom waits (Benjamin Milgrove): Difference between revisions
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{{Editor|Christopher Shaw|2012-12-01}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|2|55}}{{Copy|Personal}} | {{Editor|Christopher Shaw|2012-12-01}}{{ScoreInfo|A4|2|55}}{{Copy|Personal}} | ||
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'''Description:''' The general congregation (sometimes divided into men and women) should sing the Air, accompanying harmonies to be taken by the choir. | '''Description:''' The general congregation (sometimes divided into men and women) should sing the Air, accompanying harmonies to be taken by the choir. | ||
'''External websites:''' | '''External websites:''' | ||
==Original text and translations== | ==Original text and translations== | ||
Revision as of 09:25, 1 March 2013
Music files
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- CPDL #27681:
- Editor: Christopher Shaw (submitted 2012-12-01). Score information: A4, 2 pages, 55 kB Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes: Please click on the link for preview/playback/PDF download.
General Information
Title: Rise up, my spouse, thy bridegroom waits
Composer: Benjamin Milgrove
Lyricist: Christopher Batty
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Sacred, Hymn
Language: English
Instruments: Organ
Published: "12 Hymns", 1772
Description: The general congregation (sometimes divided into men and women) should sing the Air, accompanying harmonies to be taken by the choir.
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
Rise up, my spouse, thy bridegroom waits,
Unwearied at thy temple gates,
Thy fainting soul to cheer:
Open to me, I will thee bless,
And clothe me with my righteousness,
And banish all thy fear.
All reas'ning thoughts I will remove,
And tell thee of my dying love,
Thy soul to captivate:
Upon my head the dews distil,
The evening drops my locks do fill.
While I to bless thee wait.
What pleasing voice is this I hear?
Soul, 'tis the Lamb, thy master dear,
'Tis Jesus, none but He:
O, bid me, Jesus, bid me come,
And take a weary traveller home;
I long to be set free.
Let my poor soul in Thee find rest,
And leaning on thy loving breast,
Cast all my griefs away:
Screen me beneath the cooling shade,
Which is for weary pilgrims made,
To cheer them by the way.