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Amid angels beam beautiful blessed blest bliss bloom bosom bowers breast breath bright cherubim Christ Christian clouds dark dead death deep Dust to dust dwell earth earthly eternal fade fair faith fear flee flowers friends glorious glory grave grief harp hath hear heart heaven heavenly holy hope hope and fear hour with thee house of prayer JAMES MONTGOMERY Jesus land life's light linger List thy Saviour's Lord lostbut gone lyre mighty morning mortal mourn neath night numbered o'er thy pain path peace Pilgrim praise pray Remember the Poor rest rise riven round Sabbath Bell Saviour scene seraph shadow shine sigh sing skies sleep smile song song of praise sorrow soul stars strife sweet sweetly tears tempests thine thou art Thou hast thought throne thy Saviour's prayer tomb tread trod wanderer wave weary weep wing wither youth Zion's
Page 87 - Eve for glad meetings round the joyous hearth; Night, for the dreams of sleep, the voice of prayer, But all for thee, thou Mightiest of the earth. The banquet hath its hour Its feverish hour of mirth and song and wine; There comes a day for grief's o'erwhelming power, A time for softer tears, but all are thine.
Page 88 - Leaves have their time to fall, And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set, but all Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death...
Page 22 - OH ! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream, Whose shrines are desolate, whose land a dream : Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell ; Mourn where their God hath dwelt the godless dwell!
Page 57 - ONE prayer I have, all prayers in one, When I am wholly thine; " Thy will, my God, thy will be done, And let that will be mine.
Page 46 - Launch thy bark, mariner ! Christian, God speed thee ! Let loose the rudder-bands Good angels lead thee! Set thy sails warily, Tempests will come; Steer thy course steadily; Christian, steer home! Look to the weather-bow, Breakers are round thee ; Let fall the plummet now, Shallows may ground thee.
Page 60 - Lift the heart and bend the knee. Traveller, in the stranger's land, Far from thine own household band ; Mourner, haunted by the tone Of a voice from this world gone ; Captive, in whose narrow cell Sunshine hath not leave to dwell ; Sailor, on the darkening sea, Lift the heart and bend the knee.
Page 89 - To Jesus, the Crown of my Hope, My soul is in haste to be gone ; Oh bear me, ye cherubim, up, And waft me away to his throne...
Page 87 - Is it when spring's first gale Comes forth to whisper where the violets lie? Is it when roses in our paths grow pale? They have one season all are ours, to die!