Scripture Verse

Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man. Luke 2:52

Introduction

portrait
Gottfried W. Fink
(1783–1846)

Words: Har­ry M. Hedge, in Liv­ing Hymns, by Will­iam E. Chal­mers et al. (Phil­a­del­phia, Penn­syl­van­ia: Jud­son Press, 1923), num­ber 54. This source does not give the au­thor—Hedge’s name ap­pears in oth­er hym­nals.

Music: Beth­le­hem (Fink) Gott­fried W. Fink, 1842 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tune:

If you know when this hymn was writ­ten, or where to get a good pho­to of Hedge (head-and-shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els), would you ?

illustration
Christ in the House of His Parents
John E. Millais (1829–1896)

Lyrics

O Jesus, once a Nazareth boy,
And tempted like as we,
All inward foes help us destroy
And spotless all to be.
We trust Thee for the grace to win
The high, victorious, goal,
Where purity shall conquer sin
In Christlike self control.

O Jesus, Prince of life and truth,
Beneath Thy banner bright,
We dedicate our strength and youth
To battle for the right;
We give our lives with glad intent
To serve the world and Thee,
To die, to suffer and be spent
To set our brothers free.

In serried ranks, we fearless tread,
O Captain of us all,
Thy glory on our banners shed,
We answer to Thy call;
And where the fiercest battles press
Against the hosts of sin,
To rescue those in dire distress
We gladly enter in.

Mary at Nazareth

I know, Lord, Thou hast sent Him
Thou art so good to me !
But Thou hast only lent Him,
His heart’s for Thee.

I dared—Thy poor hand-maiden—
Not ask a prophet-child:
Only a boy-babe laden
For earth—and mild.

But this one Thou has given
Seems not for earth—or me!
His lips flame truth from heaven,
And vanity…

Seem all my thoughts and prayers
When He but speaks Thy law;
Out of my heart the tares
Are torn by awe!

I cannot look upon Him
So strangely burn His eyes—
Hath not some grieving drawn Him
From Paradise?

For Thee, for Thee I’d live, Lord !
Yet oft I almost fall
Before Him—Oh, forgive, Lord,
My sinful thrall!

But e’en when He was nursing,
A baby at my breast,
It seemed He was dispersing
The world’s unrest.

Thou bad ’st me call Him Jesus
And from our heavy sin
I know He shall release us,
From Sheol win.

But, Lord, forgive! the yearning
That He may sometimes be
Like other children, learning
Beside my knee.

Or playing, prattling, seeking
For help—comes to my heart…
Ah sinful, Lord, I’m speaking
How good Thou art.

Cale Young Rice
Plays and Lyrics, 1906