I loved to learn the glad hymns, and there were scores of them. They come flocking back through the years, like birds that are full of the music of an immortal spring!
"Come, let us join our cheerful songs
With angels round the throne."
"Love divine, all love excelling;
Joy of heaven, to earth come down."
"Joy to the world! the Lord is come!"
"Hark! the song of jubilee,
Loud as mighty thunders' roar,
Or the fullness of the sea
When it breaks upon the shore!
"Hallelujah! for the Lord
God Omnipotent shall reign!
Hallelujah! let the word
Echo round the earth and main."
Ah, that word "Hallelujah!" It seemed to express all the joy of spring mornings and clear sunshine and bursting blossoms, blended with all that I guessed of the songs of angels, and with all that I had heard and believed, in my fledgling soul, of the glorious One who was born in a manger and died on a cross, that He might reign in human hearts as a king. I wondered why the people did not sing "Hallelujah" more. It seemed like a word sent straight down to us out of heaven.
I did not like to learn the sorrowful hymns, though I did it when they were given to me as a task, such as—
"Hark, from the tombs," and
"Lord, what a wretched land is this,
That yields us no supply."