Hymns for the Church of Christ

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Frederic Henry Hedge, Frederic Dan Huntington
Crosby, Nichols,, 1853 - 640 страница

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Страница 375 - 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 521 - AM I a soldier of the cross, A follower of the Lamb, And shall I fear to own his cause, Or blush to speak his name ? 2 Must I be carried to the skies On flowery beds of ease, While others fought to win the prize, And sailed through bloody seas...
Страница 140 - Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; 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 to pole.
Страница 280 - One family we dwell in Him, One Church above, beneath, Though now divided by the stream, The narrow stream of death : One army of the living God, To his command we bow ; Part of the host have crossed the flood, And part are crossing now.
Страница 518 - And press with vigour on : A heavenly race demands thy zeal, And an immortal crown. 2 A cloud of witnesses around Hold thee in full survey : Forget the steps already trod, And onward urge thy way. 3...
Страница 583 - Let cares like a wild deluge come, And storms of sorrow fall ; May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heaven, my all...
Страница 464 - Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou madest man, he knows not why; He thinks he was not made to die; And thou hast made him: thou art just.
Страница 577 - THERE is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign, Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain.
Страница 296 - 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...
Страница 419 - E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song shall be, Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee. 2 Though like the wanderer, The sun gone down, Darkness be over me, My rest a stone ; Yet in my dreams I'd be Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee.

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