A Hymnal as Authorized and Approved for Use by the General Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the United States of America in the Year of Our Lord 1916: Together with the Canticles at Morning and Evening Prayer and Occasional Anthems

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H. W. Gray Company, 1916 - Всего страниц: 809

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Стр. 644 - Here in the body pent, Absent from him I roam, Yet nightly pitch my moving tent A day's march nearer home.
Стр. 299 - How sweet the name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear. 2 It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast ; 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary rest.
Стр. 1 - If on our daily course our mind Be set to hallow all we find, New treasures still, of countless price, God will provide for sacrifice.
Стр. 287 - E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song shall be, Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to Thee.
Стр. 729 - Lord; let us heartily rejoice in the strength of our salvation. 2 Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving; and show ourselves glad in him with psalms. 3 For the Lord is a great God; and a great King above all gods. 4 In his hand are all the corners of the earth; and the > strength of the hills is his also.
Стр. 266 - Holy, holy, holy, though the darkness hide thee, Though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see; Only thou art holy ; there is none beside thee, Perfect in power, in love, and purity.
Стр. 570 - His gate. 2 Let all your lamps be bright, And trim the golden flame ; Gird up your loins as in His sight, For awful is His Name. 3 Watch ! 'tis your Lord's command, And while we speak He's near • Mark the first signal of His hand, And ready all appear.
Стр. 21 - I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless; ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness. Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if thou abide with me.
Стр. 581 - See, a long race thy spacious courts adorn ; See future sons, and daughters yet unborn, In crowding ranks on every side arise, Demanding life, impatient for the skies...
Стр. 547 - Far-called our navies melt away On dune and headland sinks the fire Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget - lest we forget!

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