Old-Line Primitive Baptist Hymn and Tune Book

Hymn #614: Your Harps, Ye Trembling Saints

Hymn #613 Hymn #615

Doctrine and Exhortation

Image of tune Webster (may not be posted yet)

614 (S.M.) Augustus Toplady

Your harps, ye trembling saints,

Down from the willows take,

Loud to the praise of Christ our Lord,

Bid ev'ry string awake.

Though in a foreign land,

We are not far from home;

And nearer to our house above

We ev'ry moment come.

His grace shall to the end

Stronger and brighter shine;

Nor present things, nor things to come,

Shall quench the spark divine.

The time of love will come,

When we shall clearly see

Not only that He shed His blood,

But each shall say, "For me."

Tarry His leisure then —

Wait the appointed hour;

Wait 'til the Bridegroom of your souls

Reveal His love with power.

Blest is the man, O God,

That stays himself on Thee:

Who waits for Thy salvation, Lord,

Shall Thy salvation see.

Hymn #613 Hymn #615