Songs of the Church, Or, Hymns and Tunes for Christian Worship

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A.S. Barnes & Burr, 1873 - Всего страниц: 417

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Стр. 16 - Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed ; Teach me to die, that so I may Rise glorious at the awful day.
Стр. 206 - What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle, Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile : In vain with lavish kindness The gifts of God are strown ; The heathen, in his blindness, Bows down to wood and stone...
Стр. 14 - We'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs; High as the heavens our voices raise ; And earth, with her ten thousand tongues, Shall fill thy courts with sounding praise. 6 Wide as the world is thy command, Vast as eternity thy love ; Firm as a rock thy truth shall stand When rolling years shall cease to move.
Стр. 136 - Abide with me from morn till eve, For without thee I cannot live ; Abide with me when night is nigh, For without thee I dare not die.
Стр. 52 - Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the death of Christ, my God : All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to his blood. 3 See from his head, his hands, his feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down; Did e'er such love and sorrow meet ? Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Стр. 267 - Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood, Stand dressed in living green ; So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between.
Стр. 206 - Waft, waft, ye winds, his story, And you, ye waters, roll, Till like a sea of glory, It spreads from pole to pole ; Till o'er our ransomed nature The Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign.
Стр. 153 - My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin.
Стр. 324 - ABIDE with me ! fast falls the even-tide ; The darkness deepens ; Lord, with me abide ! When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, Help of the helpless, O abide with me...
Стр. 247 - That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay ? How shall he meet that dreadful day ? When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, The flaming heavens together roll ; When louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead...

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