Scripture Verse

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands. Psalm 100:1

Introduction

portrait
Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

Words: Is­aac Watts, The Psalms of Da­vid 1719. The ver­sion be­low is John Wes­ley’s adap­ta­tion of Watts’ orig­in­al.

Music: Park Street Fred­er­ick M. A. Ve­nua, cir­ca 1810 (🔊 pdf nwc).

Alternate Tunes:

If you know where to get a good pic­ture of Ve­nua (head & shoul­ders, at least 200×300 pix­els),

Anecdotes

The mor­al sig­ni­fi­cance and far-reach­ing im­port­ance of the vis­it of Com­mo­dore Per­ry to Ja­pan in 1853–54 is well known.

It is said that while his flag­ship lay an­chored off the coast of Japan, in close proxi­mi­ty to the shore, on a cer­tain Sab­bath re­li­gious services were held on board the steam­er, and this hymn was used in the wor­ship, the na­val band play­ing as an ac­com­pa­ni­ment the tune of Old Hund­red, while thou­sands who lined the shore list­ened in im­press­ive si­lence to what was to them new and strange mu­sic.

It is nar­rat­ed that when Dr. Demp­ster, of Gar­rett Bib­li­cal In­sti­tute, was on his way, with his wife and two bro­ther mis­sion­ar­ies, to South Af­ri­ca, they were pur­sued for three days by a pi­rate ves­sel, and it seemed that they would have to sur­ren­der.

They spent no lit­tle time in pray­er to the wond­rous So­ve­reign of the sea to res­cue them from the hands of their pur­su­ers.

On the third day, just af­ter they had joined in pray­er and in singing this hymn, the pi­rate ship was seen to change its course, thus leav­ing them to pur­sue un­dis­turbed their er­rand of mer­cy to the Dark Con­ti­nent.

It is not strange that this hymn should have re­mained ev­er there­af­ter as­so­ci­at­ed in grate­ful re­memb­rance with their pro­vi­den­tial es­cape from rob­bery and pos­si­bly from death.

Nutter, p. 8

Lyrics

Before Je­ho­vah’s aw­ful throne,
Ye na­tions, bow with sac­red joy;
Know that the Lord is God alone;
He can cre­ate, and He de­stroy,
He can cre­ate, and He de­stroy.

His so­ve­reign pow­er, with­out our aid,
Made us of clay, and formed us men;
And when like wan­der­ing sheep we strayed,
He brought us to His fold again,
He brought us to His fold again.

We are His peo­ple, we His care,
Our souls, and all our mor­tal frame;
What last­ing hon­ors shall we rear,
Almighty Mak­er, to Thy name,
Almighty Mak­er, to Thy name?

We’ll crowd Thy gates with thank­ful songs,
High as the hea­vens our voic­es raise;
And earth, with her ten thou­sand tongues,
Shall fill Thy courts with sound­ing praise,
Shall fill Thy courts with sound­ing praise.

Wide as the world is Thy com­mand,
Vast as eter­ni­ty Thy love;
Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand,
When roll­ing years shall cease to move,
When roll­ing years shall cease to move.