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Страница 40 - Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll And spread the truth from pole...
Страница 479 - In every joy that crowns my days, In every pain I bear, My heart shall find delight in praise, Or seek relief in prayer.
Страница 406 - Thus might I hide my blushing face, While his dear cross appears ; Dissolve" my heart in thankfulness, And melt mine eyes to tears. 5 But drops of grief can ne'er repay The debt of love I owe ; Here, Lord, I give myself away, 'Tis all that I can do.
Страница 650 - FROM every stormy wind that blows, From every swelling tide of woes, There is a calm, a sure retreat; 'Tis found beneath the mercy-seat. 2 There is a place, where Jesus sheds The oil of gladness on our heads ; A place than all besides more sweet, — It is the blood-bought mercy-seat.
Страница 190 - 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.
Страница 363 - In vain we tune our formal songs, In vain we strive to rise; Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies.
Страница 542 - 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 651 - GOD of my life, to thee I call ! Afflicted, at thy feet I fall ; When the great water-floods prevail, Leave not my trembling heart to fail. 2 Friend of the friendless and the faint, Where should I lodge my deep complaint? Where, but with thee, whose open door Invites the helpless and the poor?
Страница 234 - Thine eye commands with piercing view My rising and my resting hours, My heart and flesh, with all their powers. 2 My thoughts, before they are my own, Are to my God distinctly known ; He knows the words I mean to speak, Ere from my opening lips they break.
Страница 303 - Dear dying Lamb ! Thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved, to sin no more.

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