Hymns, written and adapted to the weekly Church service of the year [ed. by A. Heber].

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Страница 19 - BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morning ! Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid ! Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid...
Страница 13 - THE Son of God goes forth to war, A kingly crown to gain ; His blood-red banner streams afar : Who follows in his train ? Who best can drink his cup of woe, Triumphant over pain, Who patient bears his cross below — He follows in his train.
Страница 21 - Lo, such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod ; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God.
Страница 119 - BEFORE Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations, bow with sacred joy ; Know that the Lord is God alone ; He can create, and he destroy.
Страница 123 - 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...
Страница 63 - GOD moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform ; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sovereign will.
Страница 123 - From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand ; Where Afric's sunny fountains .Roll down their golden sand ; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain.
Страница 129 - Direct, control, suggest this day, All I design, or do, or say ; That all my powers, with all their might, In Thy sole glory may unite...
Страница 63 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.
Страница 37 - 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 ! Oh ! on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! HUSH'D is the harp — the Minstrel...

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