Dix-Hills (Oliver Holden): Difference between revisions
(Added shapenote edition) |
mNo edit summary |
||
| Line 12: | Line 12: | ||
==General Information== | ==General Information== | ||
'''Title:''' ''Dix-Hills''<br> | '''Title:''' ''Dix-Hills''<br> | ||
'''First Line:''' | '''First Line:''' Too many, Lord, abuse Thy grace<br> | ||
{{Composer|Oliver Holden}} | {{Composer|Oliver Holden}} | ||
{{Lyricist|William Cowper}} | {{Lyricist|William Cowper}} | ||
| Line 22: | Line 22: | ||
'''Published:''' 1803 | '''Published:''' 1803 | ||
'''Description:''' Published in ''The Charlestown Collection'', 1803, p. 32. Words by William Cowper, 1779, his Hymn | '''Description:''' Published in ''The Charlestown Collection'', 1803, p. 32. Words by William Cowper, 1779, his Hymn 72 of Book 3. | ||
'''External websites:''' | '''External websites:''' | ||
Revision as of 05:15, 6 February 2015
Music files
| ICON | SOURCE |
|---|---|
 |
File details |
 |
Help |
- (Posted 2015-02-06) CPDL #34490:
- Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2015-02-06). Score information: Letter, 1 page, 30 kB Copyright: Public Domain
- Edition notes: Oval note edition.
- (Posted 2015-02-06) CPDL #34491:
- Editor: Barry Johnston (submitted 2015-02-06). Score information: Unknown, 1 page, 45 kB Copyright: Public Domain
- Edition notes: Note shapes added (4-shape).
General Information
Title: Dix-Hills
First Line: Too many, Lord, abuse Thy grace
Composer: Oliver Holden
Lyricist: William Cowper
Number of voices: 4vv Voicing: SATB
Genre: Sacred, Hymn Meter: 86. 86 (C.M.)
Language: English
Instruments: A cappella
Published: 1803
Description: Published in The Charlestown Collection, 1803, p. 32. Words by William Cowper, 1779, his Hymn 72 of Book 3.
External websites:
Original text and translations
English text
Far from the world, O Lord, I flee,
From strife and tumult far;
From scenes where Satan wages still
His most successful war.
The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With prayer and praise agree;
And seem by Thy sweet bounty made
For those who follow Thee.
There, if Thy Spirit touch the soul,
And grace her mean abode,
O with what peace, and joy, and love,
She communes with her God!
There, like the nightingale, she pours
Her solitary lays;
Nor asks a witness of her song,
Nor thirsts for human praise.
Author and Guardian of my life,
Sweet Source of light divine,
And, all harmonious names in one,
My Saviour,--Thou art mine!
What thanks I owe Thee, and what love,
A boundless, endless store,
Shall echo through the realms above
When time shall be no more!