Scripture Verse

They drank of that spiritual rock that followed them: and that rock was Christ. 1 Corinthians 10:4

Introduction

portrait
George C. Needham (1844–1902)

Words: George C. Need­ham, 1876.

Music: Gras­mere Ira D. San­key, 1876 (🔊 pdf nwc).

portrait
Ira D. Sankey (1840–1908)

When Mr. San­key lived at Co­has­set, Mas­sa­chu­setts, in the sum­mer of 1876, af­ter the great Bos­ton meet­ings, he ve­ry na­tur­al­ly de­sired to bring the Gos­pel to the peo­ple liv­ing in that neigh­bor­hood. Ac­cord­ing­ly, he in­vit­ed me, wrote Mr. Need­ham on one oc­ca­sion, to spend a week with him in a ser­ies of ev­an­gel­is­tic meet­ings.

Before the break­fast hour one morn­ing, while Mr. San­key was play­ing on his or­gan, I re­marked: I wish we had a good hymn on the Smit­ten Rock, as I hope to speak on that sub­ject to-night. Mr. San­key replied with en­thu­si­asm: Here is a new hymn which came to me last night in my sleep; I be­lieve the Lord gave it to me. I wish I had words for it. Why don’t you write a piece on The Rock? I re­plied, Why, I can’t write such a hymn as you want, and you know that I don’t un­der­stand music; how to fit words to your mu­sic would puz­zle an un­mu­sic­al man.

The en­thu­si­as­tic so­lo­ist, still play­ing, said: You’ll find pen and pa­per on the ta­ble; this is a sti­rring tune and I want the words; try your hand at it. I im­me­di­at­ely sat down and asked the Lord’s spe­cial help, and then wrote the hymn as it now appears.

Mr. San­key took the paper, with the ink scarc­ely dry on it, and sang it through with the chorus, the new air and the words ex­act­ly fit­ting, with­out al­te­ra­tion or amend­ment. I think the Lord gave you the words as tru­ly as he gave me the tune, was Mr. San­key’s first re­mark.

And then we com­mend­ed the lit­tle piece and its mu­sic to the great Mas­ter, pray­ing that the unc­tion of the Ho­ly One might rest up­on it. Mr. San­key sang the hymn for the first time in pub­lic that ev­en­ing, af­ter I had giv­en my ad­dress on the Smit­ten Rock.

Sankey, pp. 279–80

Lyrics

From the riv­en rock there flow­eth
Living wa­ter ev­er clear;
Weary pil­grim, jour­ney on­ward,
Know you not the Fount is near?

Refrain

Jesus is the Rock of Ag­es
Smitten, strick­en, lo! He dies;
From His side a liv­ing foun­tain,
Know you not it sa­tis­fies?

Without mon­ey, with­out mer­it,
Jesus calls, Come un­to Me;
Thirsty trav­el­er, be en­cour­aged,
Know you not the Fount is free?

Refrain

Fainting in the des­ert, drea­ry,
Guilty sin­ner, hark! ’tis He!
’Tis the Sav­ior still en­treat­ing,
Know you not He call­eth thee?

Refrain