Index

Some hymns of of Benjamin Beddome


Benjamin Beddome was a prolific hymn writer. He is said to have written one each week for to support his sermon on Sunday. A selection were published after his death. Here are some of them, taken from Net Hymnal. There is a longer collection here. Various hymns are also quoted in Extracts from Baptist Annual Register(c.1795), Memoir about Benjamin Beddome (1835) and Extracts from History of Bourton Baptist Church (1861).

Ascend Thy throne, almighty King (music)

Ascend Thy throne, almighty King,
And spread Thy glories all abroad:
Let Thine own arm salvation bring,
And be Thou known the gracious God.

Let millions bow before Thy seat,
Let humble mourners seek Thy face;
Bring daring rebels to Thy feet,
Subdued by Thy victorious grace.

O let the kingdoms of the world
Become the kingdoms of the Lord;
Let saints and angels praise Thy Name,
Be Thou through Heaven and earth adored.


Come, Holy Spirit, come (music)

Come, Holy Spirit, come,
With energy divine,
And on this poor, benighted soul
With beams of mercy shine.

O melt this frozen heart;
This stubborn will subdue;
Each evil passion overcome,
And form me all anew!

The profit will be mine,
But Thine shall be the praise;
And unto Thee will I devote
The remnant of my days.


Did Christ o’er sinners weep (music)

Did Christ o’er sinners weep,
And shall our cheeks be dry?
Let floods of penitential grief
Burst forth from every eye.

The Son of God in tears
The wondering angels see:
Be thou astonished, O my soul;
He shed those tears for thee.

He wept that we might weep;
Each sin demands a tear;
In heaven alone no sin is found,
And there’s no weeping there.


God, in the Gospel of His Son (music)

God, in the Gospel of His Son,
Makes His eternal counsels known;
Where love in all its glory shines,
And truth is drawn in fairest lines.

Here sinners of a humble frame
May taste His grace, and learn His Name;
May read, in characters of blood,
The wisdom, power, and grace of God.

The prisoner here may break his chains;
The weary rest from all his pains;
The captive feel his bondage cease;
The mourner find the way of peace.

Here faith reveals to mortal eyes
A brighter world beyond the skies;
Here shines the light which guides our way
From earth to realms of endless day.

O grant us grace, Almighty Lord,
To read and mark Thy holy Word;
Its truths with meekness to receive,
And by Its holy precepts live.


How great the wisdom, power and grace (music)

How great the wisdom, power and grace,
Which in redemption shine!
The heavenly host with joy confess
The work is all divine.

Before His feet they cast their crowns,
Those crowns which Jesus gave,
And, with ten thousand tongues,
Proclaim His power to save.

They tell the triumphs of His cross,
The sufferings which He bore;
How low He stooped, how high He rose,
And rose to stoop no more.

With them let us our voices raise,
And still the song renew;
Salvation well deserves the praise
Of men, and angels, too.


Jesus, my Savior, let me be (music)

Jesus, my Savior, let me be
More perfectly conformed to Thee;
Implant each grace, each sin dethrone,
And form my temper like Thine own.

My foe, when hungry, let me feed,
Share in his grief, supply his need;
The haughty frown may I not fear,
But with a lowly meekness bear.

Let the envenomed heart and tongue,
The hand outstretched to do me wrong,
Excite no feeling in my breast,
But such as Jesus once expressed.

To others let me always give
What I from others would receive;
Good deeds for evil ones return,
Nor when provoked, with anger burn.


Jesus, my Savior, let me be (music)

Let party names no more
The Christian world o’erspread;
Gentile and Jew, and bond and free,
Are one in Christ, their Head.

Among the saints on earth
Let mutual love be found,
Heirs of the same inheritance
With mutual blessings crowned.

Let envy, child of hell!
Be banished far away:
Those should in strictest friendship dwell
Who the same Lord obey.

Thus will the church below
Resemble that above,
Where streams of pleasure ever flow,
And every heart is love.


God is the fountain whence (music)

God is the fountain whence
[originally, Love is the fountain whence]
Ten thousand blessings flow;
To Him my life, my health, and friends,
And every good, I owe.

The comforts He affords
Are neither few nor small;
He is the source of fresh delights,
My portion and my all.

He fills my heart with joy,
My lips attunes for praise;
And to His glory I’ll devote
The remnant of my days.


My times of sorrow and of joy (music)

My times of sorrow and of joy,
Great God, are in Thy hand.
My choicest comforts come from Thee,
And go at Thy command.

If Thou shouldst take them all away,
Yet would I not repine;
Before they were possessed by me,
They were entirely Thine.

Nor would I drop a murmuring word,
Though the whole world were gone,
But seek enduring happiness
In Thee, and Thee alone.

What is the world with all its store?
’Tis but a bitter sweet;
When I attempt to pluck the rose
A pricking thorn I meet.

Here perfect bliss can ne’er be found,
The honey’s mixed with gall;
Midst changing scenes and dying friends,
Be Thou my all in all.

This hymn was written on the day of the death of one of his sons. Benjamin Beddome hadn't even been told that the son was ill, and did not hear of his death until several days afterwards.


Shout, for the blessèd Jesus reigns (music)

Shout, for the blessèd Jesus reigns;
Through distant lands His triumphs spread;
And sinners, freed from endless pains,
Own Him their Savior and their Head.

He calls His chosen from afar;
They all at Zion’s gates arrive;
Those who were dead in sin before
By sovereign grace are made alive.

Gentiles and Jews His laws obey;
Nations remote their off’rings bring,
And unconstrained their homage pay
To their exalted God and King.

O may His holy church increase,
His Word and Spirit still prevail,
While angels celebrate His praise,
And saints His growing glories hail.

Loud hallelujahs to the Lamb,
From all below, and all above!
In lofty songs exalt His Name,
In songs as lasting as His love.


Wait, O my soul, thy Maker’s will (music)

Wait, O my soul, thy Maker’s will;
Tumultuous passions, all be still!
Nor let a murmuring thought arise;
His ways are just, His counsels wise.

He in the thickest darkness dwells,
Performs His work, the cause conceals;
But, though His methods are unknown,
Judgment and truth support His throne.

In heaven, and earth, and air, and seas
He executes His firm decrees;
And by His saints it stands confessed,
That what He does is ever best.

Wait, then, my soul, submissive wait;
Prostrate before His awful seat;
And, ’midst the terrors of His rod,
Trust in a wise and gracious God.