John Ireland (1879-1962)

Ex ore innocenmtium

It is a thing most wonderful, 
Almost too wonderful to be, 
That God's own Son should come from heaven, 
And die to save a child like me.

And yet I know that it is true: 
He chose a poor and humble lot, 
And wept, and toiled and mourned and died, 
For love of those who love him not.

I sometimes think about the Cross, 
And shut my eyes, and try to see 
The cruel nails and crown of thorns, 
And Jesus crucified for me. 

But even could I see him die, 
I should but see a little part 
Of that great love, which, like a fire, 
Is always burning in his heart. 

And yet I want to love thee, Lord; 
O light the flame within my heart, 
And I will love thee more and more, 
Until I see thee as thou art.

Greater love

Many waters cannot quench love, 
neither can the floods drown it. 
Love is strong as death. 
Greater love hath no man than this, 
that a man lay down his life for his friends. 

Who his own self bare our sins in his own Body on the tree, 
that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness. 

Ye are washed, ye are sanctified, 
ye are justified in the name of the Lord Jesus. 

Ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, 
that ye should shew forth the praises 
of him who hath called you out of darkness 
into his marvellous light. 

I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God, 
that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, 
holy, acceptable unto God, 
which is your reasonable service. 

Words of anthems by other composers: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z