Hymns & Authors

 Fanny Jane Crosby

  Charles Wesley

 Horatius Bonar


William B. Bradbury


 William Cowper


 William Orcutt Cushing


 Dr. William Howard Doane


 Edwin Othello Excell


 Frances Ridley Havergal


 Elisha A. Hoffman


 William James Kirkpatrick


 Robert Lowry


 James McGranahan


 John Newton


 Ira D. Sankey


 George C. Stebbins


 Daniel B. Towner


 Isaac Watts


 Major D. W. Whittle




English and the Yoruba version


SHALL, hymns of grateful love

Thro’heav’n’s high arches ring,

And all the hosts above

Their songs of triumph sing;

And shall not we take up the strain,

And send the echo back again?


Shall every ransomed tribe

Of Adam’s scattered race

To Christ all power ascribe,

Who saved them by His grace;

And shall not we take up the strain,

And send the echo back again


Shall they adore the Lord,

Who bought them with His blood,

And all the love record

That led them home to God;

And shall not we take up the strain,

And send the echo back again?


Oh! spread the joyful sound,

The Saviour’s love proclaim,

And publish all around

Salvation through His name;

Till all the world take up the strain,

And send the echo back again




Orin ife didun

Ni k’a ko s’Oluwa

Awon t’o wa loke

Nwon nkorin isegun

O ye ki a dapo mo won

Ki a si tun orin na ko


Enyin t’a rapada

Lat’inu Adamu

E f’iyin fun Kristi

Enit’O gba nyin la

O ye k’a korin ‘rapada

Ki a si tun orin na ko


Je k’a yin Oluwa

T’o f’eje Re ra wa

Ife nla t’o pe wa

Pada sodo Baba

O ye k’a korin ife yi

Ki a si tun orin na ko


So itan ayo na

T’ife Olugbala

Ki gbogbo eda gbo

T’igbala ofe yi

K’a korin na yi aiye ka

Ki a si tun orin na ko.






O MAGNIFY, the Lord with me,                BY Mrs. C. H. Morris.

Ye people of His choice!

Let all to whom He lendeth breath

Now in His name rejoice;

For love’s blest revelation,

For rest from condemnation,

For uttermost salvation,

To Him give thanks.


Let all…the people praise Thee.

Let all…the people praise Thee!

Let all… The people praise

Thy name

For ever and for evermore.

For evermore, O Lord!

Let all…the people praise Thee

Let all…the people praise Thee

Let all…the people praise Thy name

For ever and for evermore.



 O praise Him for His holiness,

His wisdom and His grace;

Sing praises for the precious blood

Which ransomed all our race;

In tenderness He sought us,

From depths of sin He brought us,

The way of life then taught us,

To Him give thanks.


Had I a thousand tongues to sing,

The half could ne’er be told

Of love so rich, so full and free,

Of blessings manifold

Of grace that faileth never,

Peace flowing as a river

From God the glorious Giver,

To Him give thanks



Gbe Oluwa ga pelu mi

Enyin enia Re

Ki gbogbo eda alaaye

Ma yo li Ooko Re

Fun ife ti O nfihan

Fun isimi l’okan wa

Fun igbala kikun

On l’ope ye fun



Ki gbogbo wa f’ope fun

Ki gbogbo wa f’ope fun

Ki gbogbo wa yin Oruko Oluwa wa

Titi lailai, ani titi lailai

Ki gbogbo wa f’ope fun

Ki gbogbo wa f’ope fun

Ki gbogbo wa yin Oruko Oluwa wa

Titi lailai.



 E yin, fun iwa-mimo Re

Fun oore-ofe Re

Korin iyin fun eje Re

T’o fi ra wa pada

Ife lo fi wa wa ri

Ninu ira ese wa

O f’ona iye han wa

E f’ope fun


 Emi ‘ba l’egberun ahon,

Nko le rohin na tan

Ife Re si mi po jojo

Ago ‘bukun mi nkun

Ore-ofe ti ki ye

Alafia bi odo

Lat’odo Olubukun

E f’ope fun.

AUTHOR :  MRS C.M. MORRIS 1862-1929 was born in Pennsville, morgan county, ohio. She wrote hymns as she  did her housework, although  she became blind at age 52, but she still continue to write hymns on a 28-foot long blackboard that her family built for her , she is said to have written 1000 text and many tunes




BE  glad in the Lord, and rejoice,           BY MISS. E. SERVOSS

 All ye that are upright in heart;

And ye that have made Him your choice

Bid sadness and sorrow depart.

Rejoice!… Rejoice’….

Be glad in the Lord and rejoice! Rejoice!… Rejoice!…

Be glad in the Lord and rejoice!


Be joyful, for He is the Lord,

On earth and in heaven supreme; He fashions and rules, by His word; The “Mighty” and “Strong” to redeem.


What thou’ in the conflict for right Your enemies almost prevail! God’s armies, just hid from your sight,Are more than the foes which assail.


Tho’ darkness surround you by day, Your sky by the night be o’er-cast, Let nothing your spirit dismay,But trust till the danger is past.


Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, His praises proclaiming in song; With harp, and with organ, and voice,The loud hallelujahs prolong!





E yo n’nu Oluwa, e yo Enyin t’okan re se dede Enyin t’o ti yan Oluwa, Le ’banuje at’aro lo


Eyo! Eyo!

E yo n’nu Oluwa e yo! Eyo! Eyo!

E yo n’nu Oluwa e yo!


E yo ’tori on l’Oluwa L’aiye ati l’orun pelu Oro Re bor’ohun gbogbo O l’agbara lati gbala


Gbat’ e ba nja ija rere Ti ota fere bori nyin Ogun Olorun t’e ko ri Po ju awon ota nyin lo

B’okunkun tile yi o ka Pelu isudede gbogbo Mase jek’ okan re damu Sa gbekel’ Oluwa d’opin


E yo n’nu Oluwa e yo E korin iyin Re kikan Fi duru ati ohun ko Halleluya l’ohun goro


AUTHOR:MISS. E. SERVOSS : was born in 1849,Schenectady, New YORK. She lived with her crippled grandmother for 18 years and later took care of her mother, then her father, until he died. Fanny Crosby was Mary’s inspiration




Fanny Jane Crosby

Fanny Jane Crosby was born on March 24, 1820, in the town of Southeast, Putnam County, New York, she has composed thousands of hymns which are rendered in the churches today.

See some of the hymns

“Safe in the arms of Jesus.” -Yoruba version  LAIFOYA  LAPA JESU

“Rescue the perishing.” -Yoruba version YO AWON  TI NSEGBE, SAJO ENI NKU

“Pass me not, O Gentle Saviour.” Yoruba version MA KO JA MI OLUGBALA

“Now just a word for Jesus.”                   

“Thou my everlasting portion.” – Yoruba version JESU ’WO NI TEMI LAILAI

“I am Thine, O Lord, I have heard Thy voice.” -Yoruba version OLUWA EMI SA TI GBOHUN RE

“To the work, to the work.” -Yoruba version  A O SISE! A O SISE! BO AWON TEBI NPA

“Jesus, keep me near the cross.” – Yoruba version FA MI SUN M’AGBELEBU

“Only a step to Jesus.”- Yoruba version YARA WA SODO JESU

“Behold Me standing at the door.”- Yoruba version WO! MO DURO LEHIN LEKUN

“O child of God wait patiently.”  

“Blessed assurance.”- Yoruba version O DA MI LOJU! MO NI JESU

“O precious words that Jesus said.”

“Hold Thou my hand.”- Yoruba version JO, DI MI MU, ALAILERA NI MO JE

“Jesus my all.”  

“Saved by grace.”

“I shall know Him.”


Fanny Crosby was blind.  When she was six weeks old a slight cold caused inflammation of the eyes. Our usual doctor was away from home, so a stranger was called in. He recommended the use of hot poultices, which practically destroyed her  sight. When this sad calamity became known, the unfortunate man thought it best to leave the neighbourhood, and they  never heard of him again.”

Fanny Crosby resolved when she was quite a child that her blindness should not make her unhappy, or prevent her from being useful in the world; she never allowed those around her to pity her because she was blind. She wrote: “Darkness may throw a shadow over my outer vision, but there is no cloud that can keep the sunlight of hope from a trustful soul. One of the earliest resolves that I formed in my young and joyous heart was to leave all care to yesterday, and to believe that the morrow would bring its own peculiar joy.”


But the great desire of her heart, as a tiny child, was for education. “I used to sigh and wonder,” she says, “if I should ever be able to gain anything of the great store of human knowledge. As time went on, my longing for knowledge became a passion, from which there was seldom any rest.”

Mrs. Hawley, a Christian lady in whose house they lived, took a great interest in the blind child, and under her teaching she acquired a thorough knowledge of the Bible, learning by heart four or five chapters a week, so that at the end of a year she could repeat the four Gospels, and a large portion of the first four books of the Old Testament.

When she was eleven years old, she definitely asked God, one beautiful night, when kneeling near her grandmother’s rocking-chair, to open the way for her to be taught; and, four years later, the answer came. “It was twilight,” she says, “and grandmother and I both sat talking in the old rocking-chair. Then we knelt and prayed together, after which she went away. I crept towards the window, and through the branches of a giant oak that stood outside, the soft moonlight fell upon my head like the benediction of an angel. I knelt, and repeated over and over again these simple words, ‘Dear Lord, please show me how I can learn like other children.’ At that moment the anxiety that had burdened my heart was changed to the sweet consciousness that my prayer would be answered in due time.” She shall tell us how the answer came. “Four years later ” (it was in November, 1834) “I had been out and on my return mother met me at the gate. I heard a paper rustling in her hand. It was a circular, my mother told me from the New York Institution for the Blind, sent her by a friend. I clapped my hands, and exclaimed, “Oh, thank God! He has answered my prayer, just as I knew He would.” That was the happiest day of my life. The dark intellectual maze in which I had been living seemed to yield to hope, and the promise of the light that was about to dawn. I did not crave bodily vision, it was mental enlightenment I sought.”

Four months later, before she was quite fifteen, on March 3, 1835, she made the journey to New York. Her suffering at leaving her dear mother was intense, “but,” she says, “I was resolved to make any sacrifice to acquire an education; and never have I regretted that decision.”

Fanny Crosby had a happy, useful, and eventful time in the New York Institution for the Blind, where she remained for twenty-three years ; eight as a pupil, and fifteen as a teacher. The education given at the Institution was wide and thorough. The pupils were taught to read the Bible, Pilgrim’s Progress, and general literature in prose and verse, in the raised characters. Her favourite studies were English history, philosophy, and science. The singing classes were her great delight. She also learned to play the organ, the guitar, and the piano. Two books of her poems were published while she was at the Institute, and a third volume was brought out soon after she left.

The year 1850 was a memorable one, for it was the year of her conversion and consecration to God’s service. Revival Meetings were being held in a Methodist Church near by. “Some of us,” she writes, “went every evening, but although I sought peace, I could not find the joy I craved, until one evening — November 20, 1850 — I arose and went forward alone. After prayer the congregation began to sing the grand old consecration hymn of Dr. Isaac Watts:

“Alas and did my Saviour bleed?
  And did my Sovereign die?
Would He devote that sacred Head
  For such a worm as I?”

And when they reached the 3rd line of the last verse:

“Here, Lord, I give myself away;
‘Tis all that I can do.”

I surrendered myself to the Saviour, and my very soul was flooded with celestial light. I sprang to my feet, shouting “Hallelujah.”

Fanny Crosby left the Institution for the Blind on March 2, 1858, and she was married the same year to Mr. Alexander Van Alstyne, who was also blind and whom she had known as pupil and teacher in the Institution for fifteen years. After their marriage it was his wish that her literary name, Fanny J. Crosby, should still be used, as it had become known to the public through her poems. She says of him, “He was a firm trustful Christian, a man of kindly deeds and cheering words. Our tastes were congenial, and he composed the music to several of my hymns. At different times he was organist in two of the New York Churches; he also taught private classes in both vocal and instrumental music. We were happy together for many years.”

Alexander Van Alstyne died on July 18, 1902.

Before leaving the Institution for the Blind, Fanny Crosby had written no hymns, but in 1863 she was introduced to Mr. W. B. Bradbury, who had been wishing for years to meet with someone who could write words for his melodies. She thus began her work as a writer of Gospel hymns. The first she wrote for him was the missionary hymn, “There’s a cry from Macedonia.” She worked with him until his death in January, 1868. She also wrote for Philip Phillips, Hubert P. Main, Dr. Lowry, Dr. W. H. Doane, Ira D. Sankey, Philip P. Bliss, Mr. W. F. Sherwin, and many others.

Fanny Crosby says, in her Memories of Eighty Years: “How many hymns have you written? is a question I often am asked. The exact number has never been recorded, but I have written probably about eight thousand.”

The various incidents of the writing of her hymns are most interesting; I can only tell you the story of a few of them as she has recorded them in her Life.

Hold Thou my Hand.”  The Yoruba version is JO, DI MI MU, ALAILERA NI MO JE,  She says, “Hubert P. Main wrote the music for this hymn. For days before I wrote it, all had seemed dark to me. This was an unusual experience, for I have always been most cheerful; and so, in my human weakness, I cried in prayer. ‘Dear Lord, hold Thou my hand!’ Almost at once sweet peace returned to my heart, and my gratitude for answered prayer sang itself in the lines of my hymn”:

“Hold Thou my hand, so weak I am and helpless
  I dare not take one step without Thy aid;
Hold Thou my hand, for then, O loving Saviour,
  No dread of ill shall make my soul afraid.”

After the death of Mr. C. H. Spurgeon,” she adds, “his wife wrote for a copy of this poem, and said she had derived great comfort from hearing it sung.”

Safe in the arms of Jesus. The Yoruba version is LAIFOYA  LAPA JESU   Fanny Crosby says, “On April 30, 1868, Dr. W. H. Doane came into my house and said: “I have exactly forty minutes before my train leaves for Cincinnati. Here is a melody. Can you write words for it?’ Then followed a space of twenty minutes, during which I was unconscious of all else except the work I was doing. At the end of that time I recited the words, ‘Safe in the arms of Jesus’ to Mr. Doane. He wrote them down, and had time to catch his train.”

Now just a word for Jesus,” was written with the view of influencing people at prayer meetings to give their testimonies, and to give them promptly.

Rescue the Perishing, The Yoruba version is YO AWON  TI NSEGBE, SAJO ENI NKU was written after a meeting at one of the New York missions. “A few days before, Mr. Doane,” she says, “had sent me the subject, ‘Rescue the perishing,’ and while I sat there that evening, the line came to me:

“Rescue the perishing, care for the dying.”

I could think of nothing else that night. When I reached home, I went to work on it at once, and before I retired the entire hymn was ready for a melody. Next day the words were written out and sent to Mr. Doane, who wrote the beautiful and touching music which has brought them fame.”

Jesus my all,” was written in 1866. “Some one was singing the old Scottish song, ‘Robin Adair,’ and I remarked how beautiful it was. Henry Brown said, ‘I challenge you to write a hymn to that melody.’ I immediately wrote the following words:

“Lord, at Thy mercy-seat,
  Humbly I fall,
Pleading Thy promise sweet,
  Lord, hear my call;
Now let the work begin,
  Oh make me pure within,
Cleanse me from every sin,
  Jesus, my all!”

Saved by Grace.” “This hymn,” says Fanny Crosby, “was called into being by a thought expressed in a sermon preached by Dr. Howard Crosby, a distant relative of mine. He said, ‘No Christian should fear death; for the same grace that teaches us how to live will also teach us how to die.’ Not many hours after hearing these remarks,” she continues, “I began to write this hymn.”

Two years after writing it she was at an Evangelistic Meeting that was being taken by Dr. A. J. Gordon and Mr. Sankey. Mr. Sankey asked her to say a few words, as a message had been sent in by some of those present that they wished to hear her speak. During her remarks she repeated for the first time in public, “Saved by Grace.” “Where have you kept that piece?” asked Mr. Sankey, as I returned to my place. A few weeks later George C. Stebbins composed the music for its setting, and thus the hymn was sent forth on its mission to the world.” It was a great favourite of Mr. Sankey’s. He sang and used it constantly during his services:

“Some day the silver cord will break
  And I no more, as now shall sing!
But oh, the joy when I shall wake
  Within the palace of the King!

And I shall see Him face to face,
And tell the story, saved by grace.”

I shall know him.” “A melody was given to me by Mr. John R. Sweeney, and he requested me,” says Fanny Crosby, “to write something ‘tender and pathetic.’ I prayed that appropriate words might be given me for his music; and the train of thought led me to the sweet consciousness that I shall know my Saviour ‘by the print of the nails in His hand.'”

This hymn is so beautiful that I will give you the four verses and chorus:

“When my life work is ended, and I cross the swelling tide,
  When the bright and glorious morning I shall see;
I shall know my Redeemer when I reach the other side.
  And His smile will be the first to welcome me.”

“I shall know Him, I shall know Him,
  When redeemed by His side I shall stand;
I shall know Him, I shall know Him,
  By the print of the nails in His hand.”

Oh, the soul-thrilling rapture when I view His blessed
  And the lustre of His kindly beaming eye;
How my full heart will praise Him for the mercy, love, and
  That prepares for me a mansion in the sky.

Oh the dear ones in glory how they beckon me to come!
  And our parting at the river I recall:
To the sweet vales of Eden they will sing my welcome
But I long to meet my Saviour first of all.

Thro’ the gates of the city, in a robe of spotless white,
  He will lead me where no tears will ever fall;
In the glad song of ages I shall mingle with delight
  But I long to meet my Saviour first of all.”

It is interesting to know that our sweet poetess Frances Ridley Havergal, and Fanny Crosby wrote to one another during the last seven years of Miss Havergal’s life. In answer to an inquiry about “Fanny Crosby,” her friend, Mr. Wm. F. Sherwin, wrote to Miss Havergal, saying, “She is a blind lady, whose heart can see splendidly in the sunshine of God’s love.” Miss Havergal was deeply touched by this reply, and wrote Fanny Crosby the following beautiful lines:

“Sweet blind singer over the sea,
Tuneful and jubilant, how can it be
That the songs of gladness, which float so far,
As if they fall from an evening star,
Are the notes of one who may never see
Visible music of flower and tree?…

How can she sing in the dark like this?
What is her fountain of light and bliss?…

Her heart can see, her heart can see!
Well may she sing so joyously!
For the King Himself, in His tender grace,
Hath shown her the brightness of His face…

Dear blind sister over the sea!
An English heart goes forth to thee,
We are linked by a cable of faith and song,
Flashing bright sympathy, swift along;
One in the east, and one in the west,
Singing for Him, Whom our souls love best…

Sister! what will our meeting be,
When our hearts shall sing, and our eyes shall see?”

Before we sing our closing hymn, “Safe in the arms of Jesus,” I will tell you the seed thought in Fanny Crosby’s mind which produced this lovely hymn. I quote this story from “Friendly Greetings” issued by the Religious Tract Society.

“On one occasion in the city of New York there was a great rush of panic-stricken people. No one could tell what might happen; broken limbs, or even loss of life. Amongst the frightened crowd was a mother with a little girl by her side. The child was weak and delicate and terribly alarmed at the noise and commotion around her, and she cried piteously. Lifting her from the ground the mother tenderly folded her to her bosom, whispering as she did so, ‘Hush, my little one, you are safe now, in mother’s arms.’ A simple little incident, and one that would probably soon have been forgotten, but an eyewitness of the mother’s action spoke of it to Fanny Crosby, and the scene was ever impressed upon her mind. The thought of the mother folding her trembling and now quieted child to her breast, suggested to her the beautiful idea of Jesus clasping troubled and sorrowful people to His kind heart, and soothing, and healing, and comforting them. A few years later, and this well-known hymn, ‘Safe in the arms of Jesus,’ came from her gifted mind.”

“He gathers the lambs with His arms, and carries them in His bosom.” Yes, and not only does the Saviour gather the children, and bear them on His breast, but He will carry us older people, too, if we will let Him.

Listen! These are His words to each of us grown up people to-day: “Even to your old age I am He, and even to hoar hairs will I carry you: I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver. (Isa. 46:4.)

Come then, dear friends, to the dear Saviour today; take refuge within His open, out-stretched arms. Never doubt His willingness to receive or His power to bear. Blessed, thrice blessed, are all those who can say, “The Eternal God is [my] Refuge, and underneath me are the everlasting arms.” (Deut. 33:27.)




  1. SAFE in the hands of Jesus,

Safe on His gentle breast,

There by His love o’er-shaded,

Sweetly my soul shall rest,

Hark! ‘tis the voice of angels,

Borne in a song to me….

Over the fields of glory,

Over the Jasper sea…..



Safe in the arms of Jesus,

Safe on His gentle breast,

There by His love o’er-shaded

Sweetly my soul shall rest.



  1. Safe in the arms of Jesus,

Safe from corroding care,

Safe from the world’s temptations

Sin cannot harm me there.

Free from the blight of sorrow,

Free from my doubts and fears;

Only a few more trials,

Only a few more tears!….



Jesus, my heart’s dear refuge,

Jesus has died for me;

Firm on the Rock of Ages,

Ever my trust shall be.

Here let me wait with patience




Laifoya l’apa Jesu

Laifoya laiya Re

L’abe ojij’ ife Re

L’okan mi o simi

Gbo ohun Angeli ni

Orin won d’eti mi

Lati papa ogo wa

Lati okun Jaspi.



Laifoya l’apa Jesu,

Laifoya laiya Re

Labe ojij ’ife Re, l’okan

mi o simi


 Laifoya l’apa Jesu

Mo bo low’ aniyan

Mo bo lowo idanwo

Ese ko n’ipa mo

Mobo lowo ’banuje

Mo bo lowo eru

O ku idanwo die!

O k’omije die!



Jesu abo okan mi

Jesu ti ku fun mi

Apata aiyeraiye

L’emi o gbekele

Nihin l’emi oduro

Tit’ oru y’o koja


Composed by  Fanny Jane Crosby








  1. Rescue the perishing,

Care for the dying [the grave

Snatch them in pity from sin and

Weep o’er the erring one,

Lift up the fallen,

Tell them of Jesus, the Mighty to save

Rescue the perishing, care for the


Jesus is merciful Jesus will save.




  1. though they are slighting Him,

Still He is waiting,

Waiting the penitent child to receive

Plead with them earnestly,

Plead with them gently

He will forgive if they only believe



  1. Down in the human heart,

Crushed by the tempter,

Freelings lie buried that grace can


Touched by a loving hand,

Wakened by kindness,

Chords that were broken will vibrate

once more.




  1. Rescue the perishing

Duty demands it; [will provide;

Strength for thy labour the Lord

Back to the narrow way

Patiently win them;

Tell the poor wanderer a Saviour

has died.




  1. Yo awon ti nsegbe, sajo eni nku

F’anu ja won kuro ninu ese

Ke f’awon ti nsina, gb’eni subu ro

so fun won pe, Jesu le gba won la

Yo awon ti nsegbe, sajo eni nku

Alanu ni Jesu, yio gbala



  1. Bi nwon tile nkegan, sibe O nduro

Lati gb’omo t’o ronupiwada

Sa f’itara ro won, si ro won jeje

On o dariji, bi nwon ba gbagbo





  1. Ninu okan eda, t’ese ti baje

Ore-ofe le sise re nibe,

Nipa inu-rere, suru at’ife,

Okan aro le bu s’orin ayo




  1. Yo awon ti nsegbe – ise tire ni

Oluwa yio f’agbara fun O

fu suru fa won wa, si ona toro

so f’asako p’Olugbala ti ku

Composed by  Fanny Jane Crosby


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