The Church Psalmist: Or, Psalms and Hymns for the Public, Social, and Private Use of Evangelical Christians ... (Google eBook)

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Presbyterian Publication Committee, 1847 - Hymns, English - 768 pages
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Page 335 - While life's dark maze I tread, And griefs around me spread, Be thou my Guide; Bid darkness turn to day, Wipe sorrow's tears away, Nor let me ever stray From thee aside.
Page 322 - How sweet the name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear. 2 It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast ; 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary rest.
Page 509 - " That saw the Lord arise ! Welcome to this reviving breast, And these rejoicing eyes ! 2 The King himself comes near, And feasts his saints to-day ; Here we may sit, and see him here, And love, and praise, and pray.
Page 406 - ALAS, and did my Saviour bleed, And did my Sovereign die ? Would He devote that sacred head For such a worm as I ? 2 Was it for crimes that I had done He groaned upon the tree? Amazing pity ! grace unknown ! And love beyond degree ! 3 Well might the sun in darkness hide^ And shut his glories in, When God, the mighty Maker, died For man, the creature's sin.
Page 338 - Go to dark Gethsemane, Ye that feel the tempter's power ; Your Redeemer's conflict see : Watch with him one bitter hour : Turn not from his griefs away ; Learn of Jesus Christ to pray. 2 Follow to the judgment-hall ; View the Lord of life arraigned.
Page 123 - People and realms, of every tongue, Dwell on His love with sweetest song ; And infant voices shall proclaim Their early blessings on His name.
Page 20 - Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son, The ill that I this day have done ;' That with the world, myself, and thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.
Page 609 - 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 333 - Ashamed of Jesus ! that dear Friend On Whom my hopes of heaven depend ! No; when I blush, be this my shame, That I no more revere His name.
Page 345 - Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the death of Christ, my God ; All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood. 3 See, from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down ; Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

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