Singing the Songs of Zion
Soldiers' Hymn Collections and Hymn Singing
in the American Civil War

Mark D. Rhoads

"Every night the holy songs of Zion go up on this balmy spring air, a sweet incense, I think,
to the throne of the Eternal.
" Rev. William Hauser, chaplain of the 48th Georgia

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'Mid scenes of confusion and creature complaints 11s
David Denham, 1837

THE SAINT'S SWEET HOME (Home Sweet Home, Henry Bishop, 1829)



A charge to keep I have
All hail the power of Jesus' name
Am I a soldier of the cross
Amazing grace how sweet the sound
Come thou fount of every blessing
Come we that love the Lord
Gently Lord O gently lead us
Guide me O thou great Jehovah
How firm a foundation
I would not live always
I'm a pilgrim and I'm a stranger
Jesus lover of my soul
Just as I am without one plea
Mid scenes of confusion
My days are gliding swiftly by
Nearer my God to thee
O happy day that fixed my choice
O sing to me of heaven
Rock of ages cleft for me
Say brothers will you meet us
There is a happy land
There is a fountain filled with blood
There is land of pure delight
When I can read my title clear
When I survey the wondrous cross
Why should we start and fear to die

’Mid scenes of confusion and creature complaint,
How sweet to the soul is communion with saints;
To find at the banquet of mercy there’s room,
And feel in the presence of Jesus at home!
Home, home, sweet, sweet home;
Prepare me dear Savior, for Heaven, my home.
Sweet hands that unite all the children of peace!
And thrice precious Jesus, whose love cannot cease!
Tho’ oft from Thy presence in sadness I roam,
I long to behold Thee in glory at home.

I sigh from this body of sin to be free,
Which hinders my joy and communion with Thee,
Though now my temptations like billows may foam,
All, all will be peace when I’m with Thee at home.

While here in the valley of conflict I stay,
O give me submission, and strength as my day;
In all my afflictions to Thee would I come,
Rejoicing in hope of my glorious home.

Whate’er Thou deniest, O give me Thy grace!
The Spirit’s true witness, and smiles of Thy face;
Indulge me with patience to wait at Thy throne,
And find, even now, a sweet foretaste of home.

I long, dearest Lord, in Thy beauties to shine,
No more as an exile in sorrow to pine;
But in Thy fair image arise from the tomb,
With glorified millions to praise Thee, at home.