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Condescension
Traditional/Public Domain shape note; Southern Harmony; Text from Isaac Watts, Hymns and Sacred Songs, 1707-9.
ARTIST: William Walker's Southern Harmony 1844
SHEET MUSIC: http://www.ccel.org/ccel/walker/harmony/files/hymn/Condescension.html
LISTEN:
DATE: Hymns and Sacred Songs, 1707-9
CATEGORY: Traditional and Public Domain Gospel
RECORDING INFO: Condescension - Watts, Isaac
Jackson, George P.(ed.) / Spiritual Folk Songs of Early America, Dover, Sof (1964/1937), p 60/# 30 [1913]
Isaac Watts, Hymns and Sacred Songs, 1707-9
OTHER NAMES: "How Condescending And How Kind,"
RELATED TO:
SOURCES: William Walker's Southern Harmony 1844
George Pullen Jackson Spiritual Folk Songs of Early America.
Isaac Watts, Hymns and Sacred Songs, 1707-9
NOTES: "Condescension" or "How Condescending And How Kind" is a shaped note hymn with text by Isaac Watts, Hymns and Sacred Songs, 1707-9. George Pullen Jackson includes it in his Spiritual Folk Songs of Early America. Below are the lyrics William Walker's Southern Harmony in 1844.
Condescension- Southern Harmony- No. 312
1. How condescending and how kind
Was God's eternal son!
Our misery reached his heavenly mind,
And pity brought him down.
2. When justice, by our sins provoked,
Drew forth its dreadful sword,
He gave his soul up to the stroke,
Without a murmuring word.
HOW CONDESCENDING AND HOW KIND- Isaac Watts (1674-1748) Words: Isaac Watts, Hymns and Sacred Songs, 1707-9. Music: Holy Cross, James C. Wade, 1865
How condescending and how kind
Was God’s eternal Son!
Our misery reached His heav’nly mind,
And pity brought Him down.
When Justice, by our sins provoked,
Drew forth its dreadful sword,
He gave His soul up to the stroke
Without a murm’ring word.
He sank beneath our heavy woes,
To raise us to His throne;
There’s ne’er a gift His hand bestows
But cost His heart a groan.
This was compassion like a God,
That when the Savior knew
The price of pardon was His blood,
His pity ne’er withdrew.
Now, though He reigns exalted high,
His love is still as great;
Well He remembers Calvary,
Nor let His saints forget.
Here we behold His bowels roll,
As kind as when He died;
And see the sorrows of His soul
Bleed through His wounded side.
Here we receive repeated seals
Of Jesus’ dying love:
Hard is the wretch that never feels
One soft affection move.
Here let our hearts begin to melt,
While we His death record,
And with our joy for pardoned guilt,
Mourn that we pierced the Lord.
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