Isaac Watts' health, already failing, was shattered by illness in 1712. He spent much of the rest of his life as an invalid, but the record of his activity in that time is still impressive. Besides such of the duties of a minister as he could bear, he published dozens of books: sermons and devotionals; poetry including an innovative book of Divine and Moral Songs for children; a highly-respected book on Logic and a somewhat scandalous book on Theology; and (in 1719) the Psalms of David Imitated in the Language of the New Testament¹. It is surely no coincidence that the themes of time and mortality here and in I'll praise my Maker while I've breath find such a moving reflection in his versions.

This tune's origin is uncertain². Its current version (like Hanover) appeared anonymously in a Supplement to the New Version of Psalms for Psalm 42 but was soon attributed to William Croft. Croft, one of the finest English composers of his day, was a chorister and organist at the royal court. He is also remembered for his anthems. He knew the publisher of the Supplement, and may have helped edit it. Ralph Vaughan Williams has said:³

The usual argument in favour of bad music is that the fine tunes are doubtless 'musically correct', but that the people want 'something simple'. Now the expression 'musically correct' has no meaning; the only 'correct' music is that which is beautiful and noble. As for simplicity, what could be simpler than 'St. Anne' or 'The Old Hundredth', and what could be finer?

The hymn and tune are in "common" or "ballad" meter⁴, like most texts in the English and Scottish Psalters. Psalters were often printed without music: different congregations used different tunes for the same text, and a congregation might sing all its texts to a handful of tunes. St. Anne soon passed into use as a "common tune" (that is, one of those used for many different texts.) That changed with the musical edition of Hymns Ancient and Modern⁵, which took advantage of the relatively new freedom to use hymns in the services of the Church of England. Despite the editors' prejudices, it included this "dissenting" text and this old psalm tune, combining them for the first time in print. That combination has seemed "natural" ever since. This text is nearly everywhere sung to this tune; which is most often printed with this text. Its abrupt melodic intervals seem to reflect the ruggedness of the mountains that have so long symbolized the age-old holiness of God, and have so often served as refuges for His oppressed worshippers.

Use:

This is another psalm that needs no special time or occasion. Consider using as a closing song. Verse 1-3 and 8 provide a coherent abridged version, but the effect is heightened by the contrast between verses 4-7 (or in briefer form, verses 4,6-7 or even 6-7.

Notes:

¹Online version at CCEL.

²The first line, at least, can be traced back to 1637. It had been used by Handel in an anthem, and by Bach in an organ fugue. (It wasn't unusual in those days for a new psalm tune to be "composed" around an existing phrase.)

³English Hymnal, 1906, in the Preface, which is online at CCEL.

⁴Or 8,6,8,6 Iambic; see the Metrical Indexes at CCEH.

⁵First musical edition, 1862. This is probably the most influential English hymnal ever published. It provided (as the title suggests) a combination of translated Latin hymns and newly written English texts. The music, in contrast, was predominately new: many famous Victorian composers contributed tunes. Despite some innovative use of tunes from old sources, the editors were not fond of either the older psalm tunes or "dissenting" (presbyterian, congregationalist, methodist, etc.) texts.