Hymns for the Christian Church and Home. Collected and edited by J. Martineau. Ninth edition

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Стр. 11 - Then I can smile at Satan's rage, And face a frowning world. 3. ' Let cares, like a wild deluge, come, And storms of sorrow fall ; May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heaven, my all ; — 4. ' There shall I bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest ; And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast.
Стр. 17 - His sovereign power, without our aid, Made us of clay, and formed us men ; And when, like wandering sheep, we strayed. He brought us to his fold again.
Стр. 32 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at, the north wind's breath, And stars to set — but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O death!
Стр. 11 - HAIL to the Lord's Anointed, Great David's greater Son ; Hail, in the time appointed, His reign on earth begun ; He comes to break oppression, To set the captive free, To take away transgression, And rule in equity.
Стр. 16 - From all that dwell below the skies, Let the Creator's praise arise ; Let the Redeemer's name be sung, Through every land, by every tongue. 2. Eternal are thy mercies, Lord ; Eternal truth attends thy word : Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore, Till suns shall rise and set no more.
Стр. 10 - HARE the glad sound ! the Saviour comes, The Saviour promised long ! Let every heart prepare a throne, And every voice a song.
Стр. 11 - There if thy Spirit touch the soul, And grace her mean abode, Oh ! with what peace, and joy, and love, She communes with her God. 4 There, like the nightingale, she pours Her solitary lays, Nor asks a witness of her song, Nor thirsts for human praise.
Стр. 11 - O GOD of Bethel ! by whose hand Thy people still are fed ; Who through this weary pilgrimage Hast all our fathers led ! 2 Our vows, our prayers we now present Before thy throne of grace : God of our fathers ! be the God Of their succeeding race.
Стр. 11 - A glory gilds the sacred page, Majestic, like the sun ; It gives a light to every age ; It gives, but borrows none.
Стр. 11 - Could we but climb where Moses stood And view the landscape o'er, Not Jordan's stream, nor death's cold flood Should fright us from the shore.

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