Himne Indonesia

Maleakhi 1:11

Matius 21:13

Markus 11:17

Yohanes 4:21-23

Himne Inggris

Maleakhi 1:11

• [Mal 1:11] I Hear Ten Thousand Voices Singing

  I hear ten thousand voices singing, Their praises to the Lord on high; Far distant shores and hills are ringing With anthems of their nations’ joy. “Praise ye the Lord! for He has given To lands in darkness hid His light; As morning rays light up the heaven, His Word has chased away our night.” On China’s shores I hear His praises, From lips that once kissed idol stones; Soon as His banner He upraises, The Spirit moves the breathless bones— “Speed, speed! Thy Word o’er land and ocean; The Lord in triumph has gone forth; The nations hear with strange emotion, From East to West, from South to North.” The song has sounded o’er the waters, And India’s plains re-echo joy; Beneath the moon sit India’s daughters, Soft singing, as the wheel they ply— “Thanks to Thee, Lord! for hope of glory, For peace on earth to us revealed; Our cherished idols fell before Thee, Thy Spirit has our pardon sealed.”

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  source: Cyberhymnal

Markus 11:17

• [Mrk 11:17] Thy Mansion Is The Christian’s Heart

  Thy mansion is the Christian’s heart, O Lord, Thy dwelling-place secure! Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door. Devoted as it is to Thee, A thievish swarm frequents the place; They steal away my joys from me, And rob my Savior of His praise. There too a sharp designing trade Sin, Satan, and the world, maintain; Nor cease to press me, and persuade, To part with ease and purchase pain. I know them, and I hate their din, Am weary of the bustling crowd; But while their voice is heard within, I cannot serve Thee as I would. O! for the joy Thy presence gives, What peace shall reign when Thou art here! Thy presence makes this den of thieves, A calm delightful house of prayer. And if Thou make Thy temple thine, Yet, self-abased, will I adore; The gold and silver are not mine, I give Thee what was Thine before.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

Yohanes 4:21-23

• [Yoh 4:23] O Thou To Whom, In Ancient Time

  O Thou, to Whom, in ancient time, The lyre of Hebrews bards was strung, Whom kings adored in song sublime, And prophets praised with glowing tongue. Not now in Zion’s height alone The favored worshiper may dwell, Nor where, at sultry noon, Thy Son Sat weary by the patriarch’s well. From every place below the skies, The grateful song, the fervent prayer, The incense of the heart, may rise To heaven, and find acceptance there. O Thou to Whom, in ancient time, The lyre of prophet bards was strung, To Thee at last in every clime, Shall temples rise and praise be sung.

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  source: Cyberhymnal

• [Yoh 4:23] Thou Son Of God, Whose Flaming Eyes

  Thou Son of God, whose flaming eyes Our inmost thoughts perceive, Accept the grateful sacrifice Which now to Thee we give. We bow before Thy gracious throne, And think ourselves sincere; But show us, Lord, is everyone Thy real worshiper? Is here a soul who knows Thee not, Nor feels his need of Thee; A stranger to the blood which bought His pardon on the tree? Convince him now of unbelief, His desperate state explain; And his fill his heart with sacred grief, And penitential pain. Speak with that voice that wakes the dead, And bid the sleeper rise, And bid his guilty conscience dread The death that never dies. Extort the cry, “What must be done To save a wretch like me? How shall a trembling sinner shun That endless misery? “I must this instant now begin, Out of my sleep to wake, And turn to God, and every sin Continually forsake. “I must for faith incessant cry, And wrestle, Lord, with Thee; I must be born again, or die To all eternity.”

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  source: Cyberhymnal