The Religious Song Book

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Routledge, 1868 - 276 страница

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Страница v - Prince of Peace ! Hail the Sun of Righteousness ! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings. Mild He lays His glory by, Born — that man no more may die, Born — to raise the sons of earth, Born — to give them second birth.
Страница 224 - Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought; But when I see Thee as Thou art, I'll praise Thee as I ought.
Страница ix - JOY to the world ; -the Lord is come : Let earth receive her King; Let every heart prepare Him room, And heaven and nature sing. 2 Joy to the earth; the Saviour reigns: Let men their songs employ ; While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains, Repeat the sounding joy.
Страница 142 - My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin. 4 My soul looks back to see The burdens thou didst bear, When hanging on th' accursed tree ; And hopes her guilt was there.
Страница 256 - 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 173 - SOMETIMES a light surprises The Christian while he sings; It is the Lord who rises With healing in his wings; When comforts are declining, He grants the soul again, A season of clear shining, To cheer it after rain.
Страница 9 - If I am right, Thy grace impart, Still in the right to stay ; If I am wrong, oh, teach my heart To find that better way.
Страница vi - AWAKE, my soul, and with the sun Thy daily stage of duty run ; Shake off dull sloth, and joyful rise, To pay thy morning sacrifice.
Страница 238 - 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.
Страница 199 - COME, let us join our cheerful songs With angels round the throne ; Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one. "Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry> "To be exalted thus;" "Worthy the Lamb," our lips reply,

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