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Страница 310 - WHENE'ER I take my walks abroad, How many poor I see ! What shall I render to my God For all his gifts to me ? Not more than others I deserve, Yet God has given me more ; For I have food, while others starve, Or beg from door to door.
Страница 80 - Here's love and grief beyond degree, The Lord of glory dies for men ! But lo ! what sudden joys we see ! Jesus the dead revives again ! 4 The rising God forsakes the tomb ! Up to his Father's court he flies ; Cherubic legions guard him home, And shout him welcome to the skies.
Страница 346 - Sleep, my babe; thy food and raiment, House and home, thy friends provide; All without thy care or payment: All thy wants are well supplied. How much better thou'rt attended Than the Son of God could be, When from heaven He descended And became a child like thee! Soft and easy is thy cradle: Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay, When His birthplace was a stable And His softest bed was hay.
Страница 143 - Lord, what shall earth and ashes do? We would adore our Maker too! From sin and dust, to thee we cry, The Great, the Holy, and the High.
Страница 347 - Where they sought Him, there they found Him, With His virgin mother by. See the lovely babe a-dressing; Lovely infant, how He smiled!
Страница 29 - Chained to His throne a volume lies, With all the fates of men; With every angel's form and size, Drawn by th
Страница 316 - I lie ; Upward I dare not look; Pardon my sins before I die, And blot them from thy book. Remember all the dying pains That my Redeemer felt, And let his blood wash out my stains, And answer for my guilt.
Страница 80 - Where's thy sting ?" And " Where's thy victory, boasting grave ?