Dr. Watts' Psalms and hymns with Dr. Rippon's selection: containing all the additional hymns : with copious indices, including an index of the first line of each verse of Psalms and hymns (Google eBook)

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William Whittemore, and Houlston and Stoneman, 1840 - Hymns, Latin - 474 pages
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Page 49 - A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening gone ; Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun.
Page 91 - Thou, O Christ, art all I want ; More than all in Thee I find ; Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind. Just and holy is Thy name, I am all unrighteousness ; False and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace.
Page 136 - In vain we tune our formal songs ; In vain we strive to rise ; Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies.
Page 185 - The world recedes ; it disappears ! Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears With sounds seraphic ring ! Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fly ! O grave, where is thy victory ? O death, where is thy sting ? MAN SHOULD STUDY HIMSELF, AND NOT PRY INTO GOD.
Page 129 - 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.
Page 91 - Plenteous grace with thee is found, Grace to cover all my sin : Let the healing streams abound : Make and keep me pure within. Thou of life the fountain art. Freely let me take of thee : Spring thou up within my heart, Rise to all eternity.
Page 186 - FRIEND after friend departs : Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end : Were this frail world our final rest, Living or dying, none were blest.
Page 49 - E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply, Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be till I die.
Page 111 - No rude alarms of raging foes ; No cares to break the long repose ; No midnight shade, no clouded sun, But sacred, high, eternal noon.
Page 42 - Sons of men, and angels, say ! Raise your joys and triumphs high ! Sing, ye heavens, and, earth, reply. 2 Love's redeeming work is done, Fought the fight, the battle won ; Lo ! the sun's eclipse is o'er ; Lo ! he sets in blood no more.

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