The Holland Press · Homecoming
Homecoming
The old songs, sung home to the Scripture they came from.
Every hymn in this lane was born out of a passage. Here the passage scrolls — verse by verse, in time — while the hymn itself carries it, so each explains the other: the text gives the hymn its weight, and the hymn gives the text its memory. The words and tunes are public domain; each recording is freely licensed and credited on its page. King James Version.
Pieces
Amazing Grace
Newton’s hymn over the whole of the grace chapter: dead in trespasses, quickened by grace, the far-off brought nigh, strangers made fellowcitizens of the household of God. Sung bare — one voice, no instruments.
How Can I Keep from Singing?
Two psalms of a man lifted out of the pit — mourning turned into dancing, a new song put in his mouth — scrolled under the hymn they gave us.
Will the Circle Be Unbroken
The funeral hymn over the chapter of the better home: a new heaven and a new earth, all tears wiped away, and no more death, neither sorrow nor crying.
Creator of the Stars of Night
The Church’s Advent hymn to the coming Light, over the two songs of His promise: Zacharias blessing God for the dayspring from on high, and Isaiah watching light rise on a people in darkness — for unto us a child is born.
Abide With Me
The hymn Lyte wrote from one verse of this chapter, scrolled over the whole road: the stranger who walked with them unrecognized, the bread broken, the eyes opened, and the run back to Jerusalem in the night. Sung by one voice, unaccompanied.
Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing
Robinson’s hymn over the tight scroll of the stone-raising itself: Israel gathered at Mizpeh, the Philistines routed by thunder, and Samuel setting his stone between Mizpeh and Shen. Sung by one voice, unaccompanied.
Holy, Holy, Holy
Heber’s Trinity hymn over Isaiah’s vision of the throne: the seraphim crying Holy, holy, holy, the posts of the door moving at the voice, and the prophet undone — and cleansed, and sent. Played, not sung.
The Old Rugged Cross
Bennard’s cross hymn over the whole last chapter of Galatians — bearing one another’s burdens, sowing and reaping, the marks of Christ — ending where the hymn ends, at the glorying in the cross. Played, not sung.
Just As I Am
Elliott’s invitation hymn over the bread-of-life discourse — “I am the bread of life” — to the promise the hymn leans its whole weight on: the one who comes is not cast out. A 1917 recording, shellac and all.
Softly and Tenderly
Thompson’s call — “Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling” — over the chapter of woes on the unrepentant cities, turning at the end into the call itself: Come unto me. A 1907 recording.
Rock of Ages
Toplady’s hymn over Moses on the mount — “shew me thy glory” — and the goodness passing by, and the hand over the cleft of the rock the hymn hides in. A 1917 recording.
When I Survey the Wondrous Cross
Watts’s great cross hymn over the whole suffering-servant chapter — despised and rejected, wounded for our transgressions, silent before his shearers — the survey, verse by verse. Played, not sung.
I Surrender All
Van DeVenter’s hymn over the whole of Romans 12 — the living sacrifice, the renewed mind, the body given member by member, love without dissimulation to the last verse. Played, not sung.
Jesus Paid It All
Hall’s hymn over Isaiah’s arraignment of a weary, laden people — and its turn: “Come now, and let us reason together.” The verse the chorus answers is in the scroll, in its place. Played, not sung.
Nothing But the Blood
Lowry’s refrain — “What can wash away my sin? Nothing but the blood of Jesus” — over Hebrews’ own account of that blood: the better tabernacle, the once-for-all offering, the remission. Played, not sung.
Love Lifted Me
A church choir sings Rowe’s hymn over the whole of Psalm 40 — waited patiently, lifted out of the miry clay, a new song in the mouth, and the prayer at the end: “make no tarrying, O my God.”
Are You Washed in the Blood?
Hoffman’s searching question over John’s answer — the great multitude no man could number, out of every nation, standing before the throne in white robes, and the Lamb in the midst of it feeding them.
Nearer, My God, to Thee
Adams’s Bethel hymn over Bethel itself: the ladder, the stone pillow, the vow at dawn. The same chapter Wayfaring reads at Bethel — here under the hymn it fathered. Sung by one voice, unaccompanied.
In the Garden
Miles’s hymn over Mary in the garden at dawn — weeping at the empty tomb, mistaking the gardener, and the one word “Mary.” The text Woven reads in “Rabboni,” completed by the hymn that came out of it. Played, not sung.
Be Thou My Vision
The old Irish prayer over the whole of Psalm 73 — Asaph envying the foolish, entering the sanctuary, and coming out where the hymn lives: God his strength and his portion for ever. Played, not sung.
Blessed Assurance
Crosby’s “Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine” over Hebrews’ drawing-near: the veil opened by the blood, the true heart, the profession held fast without wavering.
Crown Him with Many Crowns
Bridges’s hymn over the throne room itself, from the Lamb taking the book to the Amen: the new song, the ten thousand times ten thousand, and every creature in heaven and earth joining in. Sung by a congregation.
’Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus
Stead’s hymn of trust over Solomon’s charge to his son — mercy and truth bound about the neck, honouring the LORD with substance, a father’s correction not despised. The trust verse stands at the scroll’s heart. Played, not sung.
It Is Well With My Soul
Spafford’s hymn — written out of grief, “when sorrows like sea billows roll” — over Paul’s rejoicing from prison, and the contentment learned in whatsoever state. A 1906 quartet recording.
When We All Get to Heaven
Hewitt’s heaven hymn over the heaven chapter — the new heaven and new earth, the tabernacle of God with men, no more death nor crying. The same passage “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” closes on. Played, not sung.
What a Friend We Have in Jesus
Scriven’s hymn — “all our sins and griefs to bear” — over nearly the whole of Philippians 4: rejoice in the Lord alway, be careful for nothing, pray, and the God of peace supplying every need. Played, not sung.
Praise to the Lord, the Almighty
Neander’s great praise hymn over the whole of Psalm 103 — forgiven iniquities, healed diseases, a crown of lovingkindness, mercy from everlasting to everlasting. The psalm Woven opens with, here complete.
All Creatures of Our God and King
Francis’s canticle over the two psalms it sings — heaven and earth, sun and moon, dragons and deeps, kings and children, trumpet and timbrel — everything that hath breath, praising. Sung by a congregation.
Come, Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy
Hart’s invitation over the Prodigal’s homecoming half of the parable: the far country, the husks, the coming to himself, and the father running — robe, ring, and the fatted calf.
Fairest Lord Jesus
The old German hymn — “Fairest Lord Jesus, ruler of all nature” — over the whole royal wedding psalm: the king fairer than the children of men, grace poured into his lips, his throne for ever and ever. Sung by one voice, unaccompanied.
Praise God, from Whom All Blessings Flow
Ken’s doxology — the four lines every church knows by heart — over the short psalm beneath them: “Make a joyful noise unto the LORD, all ye lands.” A blessing-length piece, by nature. Sung by one voice, unaccompanied.
Pass Me Not, O Gentle Saviour
Crosby’s plea over the Gospel’s own pass-me-not: a blind man by the wayside, told to hold his peace, crying the more — and the Lord standing still for him. A 1923 recording, shellac and all. It is presented here with one middle verse omitted, as congregations have always sung their chosen verses.
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