Lutishia Bass Watson wrote “O Lord We Sing,” and it was matched with the tune Tender Care/Soda (by P. M. Atchley) in the 1973 Harp of Ages (Song No. 202).
Della Lutishia Bass was born April 22, 1911 in Brown County, Texas, the daughter of Henry Isom Bass (1873–1968) and Mary Evaline Jones (1877–1961). In 1933 she married Charlie Agbert Watson in Portales, New Mexico. They had six children. Son Don Russell Watson is a Primitive Baptist preacher.
Lutishia and Charlie were charter members of the Muleshoe Primitive Baptist Church at Muleshoe in Bailey County, Texas. Their story in Tales & Trails of Bailey County, the First 70 Years (Dallas, TX: Taylor Publishing Company, 1988) indicates Lutishia wrote other poetry in addition to this hymn. She was an older sister of Harvey Lee Bass (1918–2007), who for several years was president of Harp of Ages, Inc. – the company formed to keep A. N. Whitten’s Harp of Ages songbook in print. The vice-president, Afton Elwyn Richards, was her brother-in-law. The second and third stanzas of the hymn suggest it could have been written around a time of war, with the subject being on her mind. God is glorified for his greatness, presence, and goodness in all times, even though we “see only in part.” The hymn meter is common meter, doubled, and the hymn has four stanzas.
Lutishia Bass Watson died September 13, 1996 in Lubbock, Texas at age 85, and is buried beside her husband in Muleshoe Memorial Park Cemetery at Muleshoe, Bailey County.
The tune used with Watson’s hymn is called Tender Care when used with Song No. 17 in the Harp of Ages, and Tender Care, or Soda in The Southern Harmony by William Walker. It was written by P. M. Atchley, who apparently is Pleasant M. Atchley, the son of Noah Atchley and Elizabeth Pharis. He was born in Tennessee in 1827 and died in 1910 in Sevier County, Tennessee. He was a Baptist preacher, ordained by Alder Branch Baptist Church.
With all thy riches known;
We get a glimpse of Holy bliss
Around thy great white throne.
O glorious light, O what a view
Of all the beauties there,
And yet we see only in part,
The city called Four Square.
And weary seems the way
The dawn will come, the sun will shine
To drive the clouds away;
Often we see our loved ones leave
To cross the stormy sea,
Our hearts are torn; they are at war,
That we may worship free.
With all thy tender care;
In life, in death, in peace and war,
We know that thou art there.
In twinkling stars, the turtle dove,
The hills, the flowing spring
Are here to tell us thou art there
To tune our hearts to sing.
Compared to that great time
When all God’s children are called home
For eternal life sublime.
We sing, O Lord, how great thou art,
And cast our eyes afar,
Unto the place called ecstasy—
I think I’m almost there.
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