Have You Not Heard of Our Saviour's Love?
Words and Music: Unknown
From A Choice Collection of Christmas Carols. No. 1, pp. 2-4, circa 1775.
Substantially similar is a song from the
Journal of the Folk Song Society, Vol. 2, p. 135.
Sheet Music Below
Have you not heard of Our Saviour's love?
And how he suffered like a harmless dove,
But still we in our wickedness remain,
We crucifuy our blessed Lord again.
If you were going to be put to death,
You'll find it hard to find a friend on earth,
That would lay down his life to set you free,
But Christ did shed his precious blood for thee.
Consider what our Lord did undergo,
To prevent them from the gulf of woe:
Repent in time, your wickedness refrain,
Christ will not shed his blood for us again.
Then let each other, as we ought to do,
'Tis God's command, though kept by few.
For little love does in this world abound,
Nothing but spite and malice to be found.
Yet if we one another do not love,
How should we think that our great God above,
Will take us to his throne on high,
If we each other scorn and villify.
Here is a thing the scripture plainly shows,
To pray for them that are our greatest foes;
If we think ever to meet in heaven,
You must forgive, as you expect to be forgiven.
'Tis very apt for some to curst and swear,
But let me now persuade you to forbear:
And do not more abuse the name of God,
Lest he should scourge you with his heavy rod.
The sin of drunkenness leave off in time,
For that's another sad notorious crime;
Live sober lives, and lay that sin aside,
Nay, and likewise the horrid sin of pride.
Some make wealth their God, as we do know,
And to their neighbours no charity will show;
It's good to help the widow in distress,
Relieve the needy and the fatherless.
Give to the poor, you lend it to the Lord,
The chearful give God doth oft reward,
In that sweet place where saints and angels dwell,
How soon death may come, no tongue can tell.
Our latter end now let us all consider,
For when our life is gone we know not whither
Our precious souls may be condemn'd to go;
Lord! keep us from the burning lake below.
Some men by gaming spend their whole estate,
And they are sorry for it, when to late:
Therefore in time ward off these foolish things,
Which heavy sorrow and destruction brings.
Keep to the church, your sabbaths don't neglect,
The hold scriptures may your soul direct:
Then let it always be your chiefest care,
To spend the Lord's day in fervent prayer.
Some are deprived of their precious sight,
All worldly pleasures are hid from them quite;
'Tis best to live in darkness here on earth,
Than lose the light of heaven after death.
From the Journal of the Folk Song Society, Vol. 2, p. 135:
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