Thou art coming, O my Saviour!
Coming, God's anointed King!
Every tongue Thy name confessing,
Well may we rejoice and sing.
This exhilarating Advent hymn was written at the village of Winterdyne in November,
1873, and first appeared in a local newspaper. It was afterwards published in leaflet form with
a tune by the authoress—for she was both poet and musician—and very soon came into public favour. The name of Frances Ridley Havergal, its writer, takes a prominent position among the sweet singers of Zion. Her spiritual songs have for more than half-a-century sung themselves into heart and home, till to-day, the echo of their sweet sound may be heard the world over.
Miss Havergal was born on December 14th, 1836, at Astley in Worcestershire, her father, himself the author of several hymns, being at that time vicar of the little parish church there. Very early in life Frances gave evidence of the poetic gift with which she was endowed, and her conversion to God, when yet a girl at school, opened a way to service in this particular sphere, which was willed of God to be a channel of blessing in years to come. Writing to a friend at that time she says: "I committed my soul to the Saviour, and earth and heaven seemed brighter from that moment." This was the young life which many years later was to bequeath to us that sweetest of all consecration hymns, "Take my life, and let it be."
Miss Havergal was a writer who possessed an exceptional faculty for committing to verse words and ideas, almost as quickly as they presented themselves to her cultured mind. A striking example of this is associated with one of her best known hymns, written in 1858, when on a visit to Germany. One day after a long walk, Miss Havergal arrived at the place where she was staying, tired and weary, and seating herself on a sofa, her eyes fell upon a picture on the wall opposite, bearing the words, "I gave my life for thee." Immediately there came to her the overwhelming thought of her Saviour's dying love, and taking up paper and pencil she wrote the whole of the hymn:
I gave my life for thee;
My precious blood I shed,
That thou might'st ransomed be,
And quickened from the dead.
I gave Myself for thee:
What hast thou done for Me?
Most of Miss Havergal's hymns were first written on scraps of paper, and afterwards copied into school exercise books, many of which are still preserved. It is interesting to receive her own account of the way in which, in God's hands, she exercised her remarkable gift. "Writing is praying with me; for I never seem to write even a verse by myself, and I feel like a little child writing. You know a child would look up at every sentence and say, 'And what shall I say next?' This is just what I do. I ask that at every line He would give me, not merely thoughts and power, but also every word, even the very rhymes. Very often I have a most distinct and happy consciousness of direct answers." One can readily understand how so many of her messages of song have been so wonderfully used of God, for the writer lived daily in a spiritual atmosphere and in close communion with the Saviour she adored.
Miss Havergal's best loved hymn is of course "Take my life, and let it be." It was written in 1874, and the world-wide favour accorded to this composition is shown by the fact that it has been translated into about a dozen European languages.
Take my life, and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee;
Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in ceaseless praise.
Take my silver and my gold;
Not a mite would I withhold:
Take my intellect, and use
Every power as Thou shalt choose.
Few there are who have sung such words as these, fully realise their deep spiritual meaning more than did the writer herself. But the life of Frances Ridley Havergal was indeed a life of consecration. Thus she wrote to a friend: "The Lord has shown me another little step, and of course I have taken it with extreme delight. 'Take my silver and my gold,' now means shipping off all my ornaments to the Church Missionary House (including a jewel cabinet that is really fit for a countess), where all will be accepted and disposed of for me. I retain a brooch or two for daily wear, which are memorials of my dear parents, also a locket containing a portrait of my dear niece in heaven, my Evelyn, and her two rings; but these I redeem, so that the whole value goes to the Church Missionary Society. Nearly fifty articles are being packed up. I don't think I ever locked a box with such pleasure."
Despite indifferent health, at times aggravated by repeated attacks of illness, Miss Havergal lived a strenuous life, her labours being almost wholly devoted to the Master's service. She spoke, she taught, she sang, she prayed, she wrote for Him. She visited the sick and infirm, often undertaking long journeys in order to carry some message of love.
In the autumn of 1878, Miss Havergal made her home at the Mumbles, Swansea Bay. Here, it was hoped would be found a quiet resting-place, that she might recruit some of her lost vitality; but her ever practical compassion toward the poor of the Mumbles overtaxed the invalid's already diminished strength, and on June 3rd of the following year, the sweet singer passed into the presence of the King. She was just forty-two.
Among the many hymns of Frances Ridley Havergal, there is one of especial beauty, "Lord, speak to me, that I may speak," which breathes out the tender longings and aspirations of a sanctified soul, so beautifully exemplified in the life of this saintly writer. Here are the closing verses:
O give Thine own sweet rest to me,
That I may speak with soothing power
A word in season, as from Thee
To weary ones in needful hour.
O fill me with Thy fulness, Lord,
Until my very heart o'erflow
In kindling thought, and glowing word.
Thy love to tell, Thy praise to show.
O use me, Lord, use even me,
Just as Thou wilt, and when, and where;
Until Thy blessed face I see,
Thy rest, Thy joy, Thy glory share.
From Stories and Sketches of Our Hymns and Their Writers by David J. Beattie. Kilmarnock, Scotland: John Ritchie, [1934].
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