Audiobook cover image


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facsimile of words and music, no 490 in PHSS Hymnbook, "O God to Thee we raise our voice"

facsimile of PHSS 158 "Let us with a gladsome mind"

Ellen Jean Bairnson’s Poetry

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They were feasting with their comrades,
Tasting pleasures one by one,
But they knew not One among them,
Was their Saviour, God’s own Son.

And like all of earth that charms us,
As the rose by garden wall,
When the flower is full and fragrant,
Soon the petals shrink and fall.

So like all of earthly pleasure,
Soon their vessels empty stand,
But there’s One alone can help them,
If they will do His command.

See them bring their vessels to Him,
Fill with water clear and fine,
Look to Christ now in amazement,
Lo! the water turns to wine.

Oh how joyful now they taste it,
Tis the best they ever had,
Sweeter far than any other,
Now they’re satisfied and glad.


Can you see the Saviour hanging,
Bleeding on the cruel tree?
Can you think that all He suffered,
Was in truth for you and me?

Can you think that all He suffered,
Was for you and me?

Can you see Him pale and helpless
Loving hands His form take down?
Can you see them gently lifting
Off that blood stained thorny crown?

Can you think it was for me,
All He suffered silently?

Can you see Him cold and lifeless,
Yielding three dark days to death?
Can you, can you, see him rising,
Draw that first renewing breath?

Can you think it was for me,
He arose triumphantly?

Can you see Him soon descending,
Coming through the starry skies,
Hear the trump of God resounding,
As His own in clouds arise?

Can you think He’ll come for me?
Yes, He paid the debt, I’m free.

All His own are quietly waiting,
No man knows the day nor hour,
We shall meet the glorious Bridegroom.
In His own, His risen, power.

Can you think what will it be,
On that day for you and me?


We are little flowers a-growing,
In God’s garden here below,
Sometimes pushed aside too harshly
That some showy weed may grow.

We may be like little daisies,
Lowly place below be given,
But when fresh by rain or sunshine,
Lift our little eyes to heaven.

Little flowers like stars a-shining,
Growing fresh amid the dew,
Showing back a ray of sunshine,
Something His in every hue.

Now while little hearts are tender,
Teach us Jesus love to know,
Let us hear of how He blessed us,
When He trod this earth below.

May the Heavenly Father tend us,
Keep us sweet and true and kind,
Helping other ones around us,
Something see of Jesus mind.


[These three poems were extracted from a booklet of poems, entitled “In Praise of The Saviour”, by Ellen Jean Bairnson, (1903–1975) of Brakes, Dunrossness, Shetland.]

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