Joel Merrill
21st January 2006, 08:14 PM (20:14)
HOLY, HOLY, IS WHAT THE ANGELS SING
Rev Johnson Oatman, Jr Jno. R. Sweney
There is singing up in Heaven such as we have never known,
Where the angels sing the praises of the Lamb upon the throne;
Their sweet harps are ever tuneful and their voices always clear,
Oh, that we might be more like them while we serve the master here.
Holy, holy, is what the angles sing, and I expect to
help the make the courts of heaven ring. But when we sing redemption's story
they will fold their wings, for angels never felt the joy that our salvation brings.
But I hear another anthem, blending voices clear and strong,
"Unto Him who hath redeemed us and hath brought us" is the song;
We have come through tribulations to this land so fair and bright,
In the fountain freely flowing He hath made our garments white.
Holy, holy, is what the angles sing, and I expect to
help the make the courts of heaven ring. But when we sing redemption's story
they will fold their wings, for angels never felt the joy that our salvation brings.
Then the angels sat and listened for they cannot join our song;
Like the sound of many waters, by that happy blood washed throng.
For they sing about great trials, battles fought and victories won,
And they praised their great redeemer who has said, "My child well done."
Holy, holy, is what the angles sing, and I expect to
help the make the courts of heaven ring. But when we sing redemption's story
they will fold their wings, for angels never felt the joy that our salvation brings.
So, although I'm not an angel, yet I know that over there
I will join a blessed chorus that the angels cannot share;
I will sing about my savior Who upon dark Calvary
Freely pardoned my transgressions, died to set a sinner free.
Holy, holy, is what the angles sing, and I expect to
help the make the courts of heaven ring. But when we sing redemption's story
they will fold their wings, for angels never felt the joy that our salvation brings.
Rev Johnson Oatman, Jr Jno. R. Sweney
There is singing up in Heaven such as we have never known,
Where the angels sing the praises of the Lamb upon the throne;
Their sweet harps are ever tuneful and their voices always clear,
Oh, that we might be more like them while we serve the master here.
Holy, holy, is what the angles sing, and I expect to
help the make the courts of heaven ring. But when we sing redemption's story
they will fold their wings, for angels never felt the joy that our salvation brings.
But I hear another anthem, blending voices clear and strong,
"Unto Him who hath redeemed us and hath brought us" is the song;
We have come through tribulations to this land so fair and bright,
In the fountain freely flowing He hath made our garments white.
Holy, holy, is what the angles sing, and I expect to
help the make the courts of heaven ring. But when we sing redemption's story
they will fold their wings, for angels never felt the joy that our salvation brings.
Then the angels sat and listened for they cannot join our song;
Like the sound of many waters, by that happy blood washed throng.
For they sing about great trials, battles fought and victories won,
And they praised their great redeemer who has said, "My child well done."
Holy, holy, is what the angles sing, and I expect to
help the make the courts of heaven ring. But when we sing redemption's story
they will fold their wings, for angels never felt the joy that our salvation brings.
So, although I'm not an angel, yet I know that over there
I will join a blessed chorus that the angels cannot share;
I will sing about my savior Who upon dark Calvary
Freely pardoned my transgressions, died to set a sinner free.
Holy, holy, is what the angles sing, and I expect to
help the make the courts of heaven ring. But when we sing redemption's story
they will fold their wings, for angels never felt the joy that our salvation brings.