1
O Jesus, I have promised
To serve Thee to the end;
Be Thou forever near me,
My Master and my Friend;
I shall not fear the battle
If Thou art by my side,
Nor wander from the pathway
If Thou wilt be my Guide.
To serve Thee to the end;
Be Thou forever near me,
My Master and my Friend;
I shall not fear the battle
If Thou art by my side,
Nor wander from the pathway
If Thou wilt be my Guide.
2
Oh, let me feel Thee near me;
The world is ever near;
I see the sights that dazzle,
The tempting sounds I hear;
My foes are ever near me,
Around me and within;
But, Jesus, draw Thou nearer,
And shield my soul from sin.
The world is ever near;
I see the sights that dazzle,
The tempting sounds I hear;
My foes are ever near me,
Around me and within;
But, Jesus, draw Thou nearer,
And shield my soul from sin.
3
Oh, let me hear Thee speaking,
In accents clear and still,
Above the storms of passion,
The murmurs of self-will;
Oh, speak to reassure me,
To hasten, or control;
Oh, speak, and make me listen,
Thou Guardian of my soul.
In accents clear and still,
Above the storms of passion,
The murmurs of self-will;
Oh, speak to reassure me,
To hasten, or control;
Oh, speak, and make me listen,
Thou Guardian of my soul.
4
O Jesus, Thou hast promised
To all who follow Thee
That where Thou art in glory
There shall Thy servant be;
And Jesus, I have promised
To serve Thee to the end;
Oh, give me grace to follow,
My Master and my Friend.
To all who follow Thee
That where Thou art in glory
There shall Thy servant be;
And Jesus, I have promised
To serve Thee to the end;
Oh, give me grace to follow,
My Master and my Friend.
5
Oh, let me see Thy footmarks,
And in them plant mine own;
My hope to follow duly
Is in Thy strength alone.
Oh, guide me, call me, draw me,
Uphold me to the end;
And then to rest receive me,
My Savior and my Friend.
And in them plant mine own;
My hope to follow duly
Is in Thy strength alone.
Oh, guide me, call me, draw me,
Uphold me to the end;
And then to rest receive me,
My Savior and my Friend.
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Basildon, United Kingdom
I love this hymn and It reassures me of my covenant with Christ Jesus and I use it to re-dedicate my life to Christ Jesus.
Ikeja, Lagos, Nigeria
This song remind me of redemption in my life thank you Jesus
Lagos, Abuja, Nigeria
Amen!
Budapest, Hungary
Thank you Lord. May we all experience and enjoy the reality in this hymn. Amen
Storrs, Connecticut, United States
John Ernest Bode, born in 1816, in London, was an Anglican priest, educator, poet, and hymnodist. His father was William Bode, of the post office; his mother was Mary, only daughter of the Rev. T. Lloyd, of Peterly House, Oxon. He was educated at Eaton and the Charterhouse, 1830-4, where he became a scholar on the foundation. From the Charterhouse, he proceeded to Christ Church, Oxford, and was the first to receive, in 1835, the Hertford scholarship, which had been instituted the previous year.
He earned his B. A. degree in 1837, when he was first class in classics and his M. A. in 1840. He became a student and tutor of his college, 1841-47, of which he was appointed censor in 1844 and acted as one of the public examiners in classics for the years 1846-1848. He was ordained deacon in 1841, and priest in 1843. In 1847 he was presented by his college to the rectory of Westwell, Oxfordshire; and on July 22, in the same year, was married to Hester Charlotte Lodge, of Saint Nicolas, Guildford. In 1848 Bode was appointed one of the select preachers in the University, and on December 12, 1850, on Founder’s Day, preached a sermon at the Charterhouse Chapel, which was afterwards published as ‘Our Schoolboy Days viewed through the Glass of Religion, ’ London, 1850. In 1855 he preached the Bampton Lectures (lectures concentrating in Christian theological topics) before the University of Oxford, published as ‘The Absence of Precision in the Formularies of the Church of England, Scriptural, and Favorable to a State of Probation, ’ Oxford, 1855.
In 1857 Bode contested unsuccessfully with Mr. Matthew Arnold, the chair of poetry at Oxford; his claims were based, mainly on a volume of poems suggested by a course of reading of the old English and Scotch ballads from 1841, and published as ‘Ballads from Herodotus, with an Introductory Poem, ’ London, 1853; second edition, ‘with four additional poems’ 1854. Bode also published ‘Short Occasional Poems, ’ London 1858, and a smaller volume entitled ‘Hymns from the Gospel of the Day, for each Sunday and the Festivals of our Lord, ’ Oxford, 1860. In 1860 Bode was presented by the governors of the Charterhouse to the living of Castle Camps, Cambridgeshire at the rectory house, where he died suddenly at the age of 58, on Oct. 6, 1874.
Hymns include:
Oh, Jesus, I Have Promised
Sweetly, the Sabbath Bell,
God of Heaven Enthroned in Might
Spirit of Truth Indwelling Light.
Oh Jesus, I Have Promised was written on the occasion of the confirmation of his two sons and daughter at Castle Camp in 1869. The hymn-tune was written in 1881 by Arthur Henry Mann, who had served at one time as organist and choirmaster at King’s College, Cambridge, known for his superb, choral music.
(Dictionary of National Biography 1885-1900)
Makurdi, Benue State, Nigeria
I don't know why, this hymnal do open my inner heart, no matter where it meet me ....... I always feel like you know, Untrace.... Kai......
Clovis, CA, United States
Thank you for having this hymn in ur archive.
My grandma used to sing this hymn. It draws me nearer to my creator. It gives me inner peace.
“Oh guide me, call me, draw me, Uphold me to the end. And then to rest receive me, My Saviour and my friend! ”
Thank you Lord for your grace and mercy everyday🙏🙏🙏
Abuja, FCT, Nigeria
Oh, let me hear Thee speaking,
In accents clear and still,
Above the storms of passion,
The murmurs of self-will;
Oh, speak to reassure me,
Help me O God to hear you speak, help me O God know your voice when speaking, help me O God to listen when you speak.
Fadeyi, Lagos, Nigeria
A powerful and sober hymn that reminds me of my daily commitment to God.
Oh, let me hear Thee speaking,
In accents clear and still,
Above the storms of passion,
The murmurs of self-will;
Oh, speak to reassure me,
To hasten, or control;
Oh, speak, and make me listen,
Thou Guardian of my soul.
Lagos, Nigeria
Great tidings