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All glory, laud and honor,
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To Whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.

Thou art the King of Israel,
Thou David’s royal Son,
Who in the Lord’s Name comest,
The King and Blessèd One.

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The company of angels
Are praising Thee on High,
And mortal men and all things
Created make reply.

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The people of the Hebrews
With palms before Thee went;
Our prayer and praise and anthems
Before Thee we present.

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To Thee, before Thy passion,
They sang their hymns of praise;
To Thee, now high exalted,
Our melody we raise.

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Thou didst accept their praises;
Accept the prayers we bring,
Who in all good delightest,
Thou good and gracious King.

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Be Thou, O Lord, the Rider,
And we the little ass,
That to God’s holy city
Together we may pass.

Hosanna to the living Lord!
Hosanna to the th’Incarnate Word!
To Christ, Creator, Savior, King,
Let earth, let heaven, Hosanna ring!

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Hosanna, Lord!
Hosanna in the highest!

“Hosanna, Lord!” Thine angels cry;
“Hosanna, Lord!” Thy saints reply;
Above, beneath us, and around,
The dead and living swell the sound:

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O Savior, with protecting care,
Return to this Thy house of prayer;
Assembled in Thy sacred Name,
Now we Thy parting promise claim:

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But chiefest, in our cleansèd breast,
Eternal, bid Thy Spirit rest,
And make our secret soul to be
A temple pure, and worthy Thee.

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So in the last and dreadful day,
When earth and Heaven shall melt away,
Thy flock, redeemed from sinful stain,
Shall swell the sound of praise again.
Hosanna, Lord! Hosanna in the highest!

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O King of Glory! David’s Son!
Our Sovereign and our Friend!
In Heav’n forever stands Thy throne,
Thy kingdom hath no end:
Oh now to all men, far and near,
Lord, make it known, we pray,
That as in Heav’n all creatures here
May know Thee and obey.

The Eastern sages gladly bring
Their tribute-gifts to Thee;
They witness that Thou art their King,
And humbly bow the knee;
To Thee the morning star doth lead,
To Thee th’inspirèd Word,
We hail Thee, Savior in our need,
We worship Thee, the Lord.

Ah look on me with pitying grace,
Though weak and poor I be,
Within Thy kingdom grant a place
Secure and blest to me.
Oh rescue me from all my woes,
And shield me with Thine arm
From sin and death, the mighty foes
That daily seek our harm.

And bid Thy Word, the fairest Star,
Within us clearly shine;
Keep sin and all false doctrine far,
Since Thou hast claimed us Thine:
Let us Thy Name aright confess,
And with Thy Christendom,
Our King and Savior own and bless
Through all the world to come.

Outside the Holy City
Unnumbered footsteps throng,
And crowded mart and streets of trade
Fling back a swelling song.
The voices echo nearer,
In flaming hope they sing:
“Throw down your branches at His feet!
Hosanna to the King!”

Once more beside a city
The Son of David waits,
Once more the children throng to bring
A welcome at the gates.
Within are hearts sore burdened
And feet that go astray;
O Christ of God, come near and walk
Our city streets today!

The branches that we offer
Are no unmeaning sign;
Take Thou the hands we lift on high
And make them wholly Thine.
No songs of shallow welcome
Are these we raise to Thee;
O give us faith to face the cross
And set Thy city free!

A distant music mingles
With all our songs today,
The chorale from a city fair
Where sin has passed away.
There rides the Christ triumphant
And victor songs ring clear;
O God, give us the strength to build
With Christ that city here!

The Son of David bowed to die,
For man’s transgression stricken;
The Father’s arm of power was nigh,
The Son of God to quicken.
Praise Him that He died for men:
Praise Him that He rose again.

Death seemed all conquering when he bound
The Lord of life in prison;
The sight of death was nowhere found
When Christ again was risen;
Wherefore praise Him night and day,
Him Who took death’s sting away.

His saints with Him must bow to death,
With Him are raised in spirit,
With Him they dwell above by faith,
Accepted through His merit:
Heaven and earth resound the strain,
Death by Jesus Christ is slain.

Hosanna we sing, like the children dear,
In the olden days when the Lord lived here;
He blessed little children, and smiled on them,
While they chanted His praise in Jerusalem.

Alleluia we sing, like the children bright,
With their harps of gold and their raiment white,
As they follow their Shepherd with loving eyes,
Through the beautiful valleys of Paradise.

Hosanna we sing, for He bends His ear,
And rejoices the hymns of His own to hear;
We know that His heart will never wax cold
To the lambs that He feeds in His earthly fold.

Alleluia we sing in the Church we love,
Alleluia resounds in the Church above,
To Thy little ones, Lord, may such grace be given,
That we lose not our part in the song of Heav’n.

Can a little child like me
Thank the Father fittingly?
Yes, oh yes! be good and true,
Faithful, kind, in all you do;
Love the Lord, and do your part;
Learn to say with all your heart,

Father, we thank Thee,
Father, we thank Thee,
Father in Heaven, we thank Thee.

For the fruit upon the tree
For the birds that sing of Thee,
For the earth in beauty dressed,
Father, mother, and the rest,
For Thy precious, loving care,
For Thy bounty everywhere,

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For the sunshine warm and bright,
For the day and for the night,
For the lessons of our youth—
Honor, gratitude and truth,
For the love that met us here,
For the home and for the cheer,

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For our comrades and our plays,
And our happy holidays,
For the joyful work and true
That a little child might do,
For our lives but just begun,
For the great gift of Thy Son,

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Children sing, gladly sing,
Hallelujahs to our King;
Lord of all, great and small,
At His feet with rapture fall;
Children sing, He is near,
Bending still His gracious ear;
Trust in Him, O rejoice!
Praise the Lord with heart and voice.

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Then sing, gladly sing.
Sing, gladly sing.
Till the heav’nly arches ring,
Till you hear the saints above,
Praising God, for He is love.

Journey on hand in hand,
Singing to the promised land,
There is rest, there is rest,
In the kingdom of the blest;
Children sing, gladly sing,
Till the heav’nly arches ring,
Till you hear saints above,
Praising God, for He is love.

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Children sing, when the light
Wakes the rosy morning bright,
When the birds’ tuneful lay,
Hails with joy the op’ning day,
Praise the Lord, He has made
Verdant lawn and forest shade.
Children sing, gladly sing,
Hallelujahs to our King.

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Children sing! who can tell
If the song you love so well,
May not reach one whose heart
Longs to choose the better part?
Stealing soft, like the sigh
Of a zephyr passing by,
Children sing, ever sing,
Loudest praise to God our King.

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Come, children; raise your voices!
The King of Love comes from above,
The heavenly host rejoices.

The Babe lies in the manger;
God seeks His own, by angels known,
But unto men a Stranger.

Though weak and helpless lying,
From Him is giv’n through earth and Heav’n
New life, and peace undying.

But who on earth do greet Him?
A shepherd band with staff in hand
Sets forth by night to meet Him.

And lo! from eastward riding
The wise men three; the star they see,
And follow it confiding.

Oh, Hope of all the ages!
May we find grace to claim our place
Where shepherds kneel and sages.

Hark! hark! the song from youthful voices breaking,
Fresh from the heart its tuneful numbers flow;
How sweet the song of happy children marching,
Praising the Savior as they onward go.

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Hark! hark! the song of holy adoration,
Glory to Jesus, our eternal King;
Praise ye His Name, exalt Him in the highest,
Now and forever shall the anthem ring.

Hark! hark! the song, the grand old story telling,
Oh, how it swells and echoes far away;
Life, love and joy, through Him who hath redeemed us,
Freely is offered in His Name today.

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Sing, children sing; the song you now are waking,
Long, long ago on Judah’s plain began;
When from the sky was heard the midnight chorus,
Peace from our Father and good-will to men.

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Sing, children sing, ’till forward still advancing,
Rank after rank the royal standard wave;
Sing, gladly sing, the wonders of His greatness,
Jesus the mighty One, the Strong to Save.

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Little children, rise and sing,
(Ring the bells of Christmas)
’Tis the birthday of our King,
Blessèd Child of Christmas.

In a stable far away
(Ring the bells of Christmas)
Christ was born that happy day,
Blessèd Child of Christmas.

Joyful shepherds kneeling there,
(Ring the bells of Christmas)
Saw the Babe and said in prayer,
‘Blessèd Child of Christmas.’

Bring your gifts to Mary’s Son
(Ring the bells of Christmas)
God’s own Gift to everyone;
Blessèd Child of Christmas.

Lord, Thy children lowly bending,
Bow before Thy throne;
Praise from youthful lips ascending
Wilt Thou deign to own?
Wilt Thou hear us while we bless Thee,
And confess Thee God alone?

Yes, Thou wilt, for Thou dost love us,
Cam’st for us to die;
Bending from Thy throne above us,
With a pitying eye,
Well we know that Thou art near us,
And will hear us when we cry.

Then our humble praises bringing,
We will seek Thy face;
Hymns with grateful voices singing
In this hallowed place.
We will dare to come before Thee,
And adore Thee, Lord of grace.

Praise Him, praise Him, all ye little children,
God is love, God is love;
Praise Him, praise Him, all ye little children,
God is love, God is love.

Love Him, love Him, all ye little children,
God is love, God is love;
Love Him, love Him, all ye little children,
God is love, God is love.

Thank Him, thank Him, all ye little children,
God is love, God is love;
Thank Him, thank Him, all ye little children,
God is love, God is love.

Sing to the Lord the children’s hymn,
His gentle love declare,
Who bends amid the seraphim
To hear the children’s prayer.

He at a mother’s breast was fed,
Though God’s own Son was He;
He learnt the first small words He said
At a meek mother’s knee.

He held us to His mighty breast,
The children of the earth;
He lifted up His hands and blessed
The babes of human birth.

Lo! from the stars His face will turn
On us with glances mild;
The angels of His presence yearn
To bless the little child.

Keep us, O Jesus Lord, for Thee,
That so by Thy dear grace
We, children of the font, may see
Our heavenly Father’s face.

Wilt Thou hear the voice of praise
Which the little children raise,
Thou Who art, from endless days,
Glorious God of all?
While the circling year has sped,
Thou hast heavenly blessings shed,
Like the dew, upon each head;
Still on Thee we call.

Still Thy constant care bestow;
Let us each in wisdom grow,
And in favor while below,
With the God above.
In our hearts the Spirit mild,
Which adorned the Savior Child,
Gently soothe each impulse wild
To the sway of love.

Thine example, kept in view,
Jesus, help us to pursue;
Lead us all our journey through
By Thy guiding hand;
And when life on earth is o’er,
Where the blest dwell evermore,
May we praise Thee and adore,
An unbroken band.

“Go work in My vineyard,” there’s plenty to do;
The harvest is great and the lab’rers are few;
There’s weeding and fencing, and clearing of roots,
And plowing, and sowing, and gath’ring of fruits.
There are foxes to take, there are wolves to destroy,
All ages and ranks I can fully employ;
I’ve sheep to be tended, and lambs to be fed;
The lost must be gathered, the weary ones led.

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Go work, go work, go work in My vineyard; there’s plenty to do;
Go work, go work, the harvest is great, and the lab’rers are few.

“Go work in My vineyard”; I claim thee as Mine;
With blood did I buy thee and all that is thine—
Thy time and thy talents, thy loftiest powers,
Thy warmest affections, thy sunniest hours.
I willingly yielded My kingdom for thee,
The song of archangels— to hang on the tree,
In pain and temptation, in anguish and shame,
I paid thy full ransom; My purchase I claim

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“Go work in My vineyard”; oh, work while ’tis day!
The bright hours of sunshine are hastening away,
And night’s gloomy shadows are gathering fast;
The time for our labor will ever be past.
Begin in the morning and toil all the day;
Thy strength I’ll supply, and thy wages I’ll pay;
And blessèd, thrice blessèd, the diligent few,
Who finish the labor I’ve giv’n them to do.

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Though the work of life be lowly,
Let me true and faithful be;
This the thought that makes it holy—
Christ has set the task for me.

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He has set the task for me!
He has set the task for me!
This the thought that makes it holy—
Christ has set the task for me!

Hush, O heart, thy wild ambition!
Toil, O hands, in service free!
Blest indeed is my condition—
Christ has set the task for me.

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Christ, I know, will not forget me
When at length the evening falls;
From the place where He has set me
I will answer when He calls.

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Far away, beyond the sea,
Where the fields are bright and fair,
There’s a call, a plaintive plea;
I must hasten to be there.

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Let me go, I cannot stay,
’Tis the Master calling me;
Let me go, I must obey;
Native land, farewell to thee.

Hark! I hear the Master say,
“Up, ye reapers! why so slow?”
To the vineyard far away,
Earthly kindred, let me go.

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Just beyond the rolling tide
The uplifted hand I see;
Lo! the gates are open wide,
And the lost are calling me.

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Father, mother, sister dear,
I must bid you all adieu;
Hark! the call is sounding clear,
There’s a work for me to do.

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Bear me on, thou restless sea,
Let the winds the canvas swell;
Afric’s shore I long to see, [substitute name of country to suit]
Native land, farewell, farewell.

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O God, who workest hitherto,
Working in all we see,
Fain we would be, and bear, and do,
As best it pleaseth Thee.

The toil of brain, or heart, or hand,
Is man’s appointed lot;
He who Thy call can understand
Will work, and murmur not.

Where’er Thou sendest we will go,
Nor any question ask,
And what Thou biddest we will do,
Whatever be the task.

Our skill of hand and strength of limb
Are not our own, but Thine;
We link them to the work of Him
Who made all life divine.

Our Brother-Friend, Thy holy Son,
Shared all our lot and strife;
And nobly will our work be done
If molded by His life.

Out where the reapers are toiling
Out where they earnestly call,
Let us away in the morning,
There is a work for us all;
Lifting the vines that are drooping,
Trying their bloom to renew,
Bathing their leaves in a fountain
Purer and sweeter than dew.

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Out where the reapers are toiling,
Out where they earnestly call,
Let us away, away in the morning,
There is a work for us all.

Out where the gleaners are toiling,
Patiently, cheerfully still,
If we are willing to labor,
Here is a place we can fill;
Speaking a word to the weary,
Helping the weak ones along,
Shedding bright sunshine around them,
Cheering their hearts with a song.

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Out where the sheaves they are binding,
Sheaves for the garner above,
Go in the Name of the Master,
Go in the spirit of love;
Hark! He is tenderly saying,
“Work in My vineyard today”;
Haste, for the summer is waning,
Harvest is passing away.

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