Savior, blessed Savior

Savior, blessèd Savior,
listen while we sing;
hearts and voices ringing,
praises to our King;
all we have to offer,
all we hope to be,
body, soul, and spirit,
all we yield to thee.

Near, ever nearer,
Christ, we draw to thee,
deep in adoration
bending low the knee;
thou for our redemption
cam'st on earth to die;
thou, that we might follow,
hast gone up on high.

Great and ever greater,
are thy mercies here;
true and everlasting
are the glories there,
where no pain nor sorrow,
toil nor care is known,
where the angel legions
circle round thy throne.

Brighter still and brighter
glows the western sun,
shedding all its gladness
o'er our work that's done;
time will soon be over,
toil and sorrow past,
may we, blessèd Savior,
find a rest at last.

Onward, ever onward,
journeying o'er the road
worn by saints before us,
journeying on to God;
leaving all behind us,
may we hasten on,
backward never looking
till the prize is won.

Higher, then, and higher
bear the ransomed soul,
earthly toils forgetting,
Savior, to its goal;
where in joys unthought of
saints with angels sing,
never weary, raising,
praises to their King.

Words: Godfrey Thring, 1862

Music: Edina, Kirkbraddan, Princethorpe, Nous allons

Meter: 65 65 D

Website compiled by Steve Benner, 1999-2003.