Come, Ye Disconsolate

Our world is broken, and desperately needs to be fixed.  Sin has broken it, and God is going to fix it.  But until that happens, pain and suffering, evil and tragedy, anger and grief will cause continual anguish.  And some of those times rise to the level of horrific catastrophe.  It might be an auto accident, or deadly plague, or the ravages of war, or attack from terrorists, or – sadly – even mass shootings of helpless school children.

This tragic reality has been true in every age, and in every part of the world, so it’s not surprising to find that the Bible describes some of those times, and also gives us a biblical perspective that can guide us as we seek to persevere when these times strike close to home where we live.  And it’s also not surprising to find many hymns that have been written to help us sing our way through those miseries in order to find consolation in the Lord.

One of those is “Come, Ye Disconsolate,” written in 1816 by Thomas Moore (1779-1852), the son of a prosperous Irish grocery merchant.  He was a nominal Roman Catholic, born in Dublin and educated there at Trinity College, but was not permitted to graduate because of his Catholic faith.  He studied law in London, but was so successful in poetry, he decided to make literature his life’s work.  Between 1808-1810 he was found acting in various plays, favoring comic roles. He met the sister of one of the actresses and, in 1811, they married. Elizabeth “Bessie” Dyke, was an actress. She had no dowry, and Moore kept their marriage secret from his parents for some time, as his wife was Protestant. Bessie shrank from fashionable society, but those who met her held her in high regard. They had five children, but none survived to adulthood. Three girls died young, and both sons lost their lives as young men. One son, Tom, died in some disgrace in the French Foreign Legion in Algeria. Despite these losses, their marriage was said to be a happy one.

In 1804 he accepted a position in Bermuda as registrar of the Admiralty Prize Court. Within six months he had found the work to be too monotonous, so left the work in the hands of a deputy, traveling in America before returning to England.  The deputy, however, ran away with the proceeds of a ship and its cargo, leaving Moore legally liable for the loss of thirty thousand dollars. Moore left for France in 1819 to escape debtor’s prison. He also met Lord Byron in Venice and was entrusted with a manuscript of his memoirs, which he promised to have published after Byron’s death. Moore’s wife and children joined him in Paris, where he learned that some of the debt was repaid with help from Lord Lansdowne, whom Moore had given a draft of money from payment by his publisher.

The family returned to England a year later. To support his family Moore entered the field of “squib writing” on behalf of his Whig friends. This resulted in years of political debate about Catholics and Protestants in government. Nearly persuaded to forego his Catholic allegiance in favor of Protestantism, he finally concluded that Protestants did not make a sound case for their faith, as they denounced Catholics so vociferously for erroneous teaching.

Moore was a friend of the famous poets Lord George Gordon Byron and Percy Bysshe Shelley. In his literary work he was known much more for sentimental romantic ballads of his day, including “The Last Rose of Summer” (1805), “Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms” (1808), and the patriotic song, “The Minstrel Boy,” written for those who suffered and died in the Irish Rebellion of 1798.  Following his publication of “Irish Melodies” (1807-1809) he was dubbed the “Voice of Ireland,” following in the footsteps of poet Robert Burns. 

Moore criticized American slavery and was accused of licentious writings, veiled as “refinement.” On one occasion, after the literary critic Francis Jeffery harshly denounced his writings in the “Edinburgh Review,” Moore challenged him to a duel.  The police broke it up just in time to prevent it from taking place.  They discovered that one of the pistols had no bullets in it.  Surprisingly, the two men became good friends.  From 1835-1846 he wrote a four-volume history of Ireland, very critical of British rule there.

Hymnologist Kenneth W. Osbeck notes, “It is said that Moore’s literary skills, both in prose and poetry, contributed much to the political emancipation of his country, for his writings revealed, to the English public, the spirit of a people, whom they had previously found distasteful.” He was one of the few writers of his day to have made substantial profit from his publications through royalties, though because of poor business skills, his latter years were spent in poverty and clouded by mental illness.

Apparently, Thomas Moore’s wife contracted smallpox. Though she recovered, she was so disfigured by the disease that she refused to be seen by anyone, including her husband. In his sorrow, the author wrote a song to assure her of his love, no matter how she looked. After she heard him sing his song outside her room, she opened the door and gratefully fell into his arms. The song says:

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly today,
Were to change by tomorrow and flee from my arms,
Like fairy gifts fading away
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will;
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.

Nevertheless, those last few years of Moore’s life were sad ones, as he lost his mental powers and required his wife’s constant care.  He died at the age of 73.

The text of the hymn offers sweet consolation to those who are “disconsolate.”  The final phrases of the three stanzas all point to the ultimate consolation that confident expectation of heaven brings.  This is especially so for those grieving over the loss of a child, spouse, or close friend.  We will not see them again in this life, but the Scriptures assure us that if they belonged to Jesus here, they are with him there.  And what a glorious reunion awaits us when we are together before the throne, singing the praises of the Lamb of God with all the saints and angels of all the ages.

The final line of each stanza functions as a quasi refrain with only minor changes.

Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal. (Stanza one)
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure. (Stanza two)
Earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove. (Stanza three)

In spite of the popularity of Moore as a poet, it was an American educator, choral conductor, and church musician, Thomas Hastings (1784-1872), who altered the text and added a stanza, saving it from oblivion when it was published in “Spiritual Songs for Social Worship” (1831), edited by Hastings and the famous New England church musician, music educator and composer, Lowell Mason (1792-1872). Hastings’ alterations made the hymn much more palpable for general church use, especially among evangelicals.  Hastings was born at Washington, Lichfield County, Connecticut. In 1786, his father moved to Clinton, Oneida County, New York. There, amid rough frontier life, his opportunities for education were small, but at an early age he developed a taste for music, and began teaching it in 1806. Seeking a wider field, he went to Troy in 1817, then to Albany, and in 1823 to Utica, where he conducted a religious journal, in which he advocated his special views on church music. In 1832 he was called to New York city to assume the charge of several church choirs, and there his last forty years were spent in great and increasing usefulness and repute.

His aim was the greater glory of God through better musical worship, and to this end he was always training choirs, compiling works, and composing music. His hymn-work was a corollary to the proposition of his music-work.  He wrote hymns for certain tunes; the one activity seemed to imply and necessitate the other. Although not a great poet, he yet attained considerable success. Taking the aggregate of American hymnals published during the latter 19th century, more hymns by him are found in common use than by any other native writer. Not one of his hymns is of the highest merit, but many of them have become popular and useful. In addition to editing many books of tunes, Hastings is the author of the hymn “Majestic Sweetness Sits Enthroned.”

Moore’s original third stanza read as follows.

Come, ask the infidel what boon he brings us,
What charm for aching hearts he can reveal,
Sweet is that heavenly promise Hope sings us—
“Earth has no sorrow that God cannot heal.”

Hastings substituted the language of the “infidel” with sacramental language of communion and baptism.

Here see the bread of life, see waters flowing
forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
Come to the feast of love; come ever knowing
earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove.

Prominent throughout the text is the word “Come.”  Usually found in connection with an evangelistic appeal to come to Jesus in repentance and faith for forgiveness of sin and eternal life, it is equally wonderful and appropriate to sing it in this context, inviting those disconsolate souls struggling with sadness to come to the God of all comfort (2 Corinthians 1).  In Jesus they will truly find that “earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.”

In stanza 1, as one church musician has said, “One may discern a hint of Irish melancholy in this poem. The pathos of such words as ‘disconsolate,’ ‘languish,’ ‘wounded,’ and ‘anguish’ in stanza one sets a tone of deep despondency.”  To be disconsolate is to be dejected, cheerless, and needing comfort because of the troubles of this life.  But how wonderful to have the invitation from 1 Peter 5:7, “Cast all your cares on Him, for He cares for you.”

Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish; 
    come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel. 
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish; 
    earth has no sorrows that heaven cannot heal. 

In stanza 2, we sing, in the spirit of the Romantic Era, the antithesis that contrasts the despondency of the first stanza with the comfort of stanza 2.  It is the comfort we can have from the God of all comfort (2 Corinthians 1), from the covenant Lord of Isaiah 40 (“Comfort ye, comfort ye My people”), and from the Lord Jesus Himself, as He said in the Upper Room Discourse in John 14, “My peace I give to you,” as He promised to send “another Comforter.”

Joy of the comfortless, light of the straying, 
    hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure! 
Here speaks the Comforter, in mercy saying, 
  “Earth has no sorrows that heaven cannot cure.” 

In stanza 3, the text points us to Jesus Christ, “the bread of life,” who offers the pure water of life “flowing forth from the throne of God,” so that we will never again hunger and thirst.  And this points us to that great feast described in Revelation 19 as the eternal marriage supper of the Lamb.  That’s where, in the most ultimate sense, that heaven will remove earth‘s sorrows.

Here see the bread of life; see waters flowing 
    forth from the throne of God, pure from above. 
Come to the feast prepared; come, ever knowing 
   earth has no sorrows but heaven can remove. 

The tune (CONSOLATOR or ALMA) is usually attributed to Samuel Webbe Sr. (1740-1816).  Also known as Samuel Webbe, the elder, he received little education and was apprenticed to a cabinet maker at the age of eleven. But he was determined to study and taught himself Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, German, and Italian while working on his apprenticeship!  He also worked as a music copyist and received musical training from Carl Babant, organist at the Bavarian Embassy.  Restricted at this time in England, Roman Catholic worship was freely permitted in foreign embassies.  Because Webbe was Catholic, he became organist at the Portuguese Chapel and later at the Sardinian and Spanish chapels in their respective embassies.   He wrote much music for Roman Catholic services and composed hymn tunes, motets, and madrigals. The CONSOLATOR tune first appeared in his 1792 “Collection of Motetts or Antiphons,” arranged for solo voice.

Here is the hymn in a beautiful anthem arrangement by Terre Johnson.