His Voice I Hear Jennie Mast, pub.1907 copyright status is Public Domain Subjects: Assurance, Comfort Scripture: John 10:2-4,27 His Voice I Hear [.xml] Barney E. Warren, pub.1907 copyright status is Public Domain Key: E♭ Meter: 8.6.8.6 D Learn about music formats... view sheet music [.pdf] [.sib] stop midi [.mid] audio recording [.mp3]	Now playing MIDI. It may take a few seconds to begin. I cannot tell when the thunders peal, How fiercely the storm may rage, Nor how dense are the shades of the night that steal O’er the path of my pilgrimage; But I know, with my Savior always near, As that night on the Galilee, The tempest will cease when His voice I hear, And the darkest shadows flee. I cannot see through the darkest clouds His image so wondrous fair, And forget sometimes, when the gloom enshrouds, The mansion awaiting there; But if on the wings of faith I soar, In the strength of His word alone, My soul can drink till I want no more, From fountains of love unknown. I cannot drink one draft of pain From the cup once drained for me, Or bear the heat on the desert plain, Nor the grief of Gethsemane; But I know, if His cross I meekly bear, If I labor, and watch, and pray, His suff’rings I a part may share From thorns in the narrow way. I cannot see for the veil between The beautiful gates ajar, The streets of gold, and the living green, On the banks of the river there; But I know, somewhere, on that heavenly strand, Is a mansion, and robe, and crown, Preserved by the Savior’s loving hand Till my work on earth is done.

His Voice I Hear

Jennie Mast, pub.1907

Subjects: Assurance, Comfort

Scripture: John 10:2-4,27

His Voice I Hear [.xml]

Barney E. Warren, pub.1907

Key: E♭

Meter: 8.6.8.6 D

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I cannot tell when the thunders peal,
How fiercely the storm may rage,
Nor how dense are the shades of the night that steal
O’er the path of my pilgrimage;
But I know, with my Savior always near,
As that night on the Galilee,
The tempest will cease when His voice I hear,
And the darkest shadows flee.
I cannot see through the darkest clouds
His image so wondrous fair,
And forget sometimes, when the gloom enshrouds,
The mansion awaiting there;
But if on the wings of faith I soar,
In the strength of His word alone,
My soul can drink till I want no more,
From fountains of love unknown.
I cannot drink one draft of pain
From the cup once drained for me,
Or bear the heat on the desert plain,
Nor the grief of Gethsemane;
But I know, if His cross I meekly bear,
If I labor, and watch, and pray,
His suff’rings I a part may share
From thorns in the narrow way.
I cannot see for the veil between
The beautiful gates ajar,
The streets of gold, and the living green,
On the banks of the river there;
But I know, somewhere, on that heavenly strand,
Is a mansion, and robe, and crown,
Preserved by the Savior’s loving hand
Till my work on earth is done.