A Collection of Hymns for the Use of Native Christians who Speak the Mohawk Language

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Government Printing Bureau, printed for the Six Nation Indians, 1892 - Hymns, Mohawk - 314 pages
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Page 16 - Christian love ; The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above. 2 Before our Father's throne. We pour our ardent prayers ; Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, Our comforts and our cares. 3 We share our mutual woes, Our mutual burdens bear ; And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear. 4 When we asunder part, It gives us inward pain; But we shall still be joined in heart, And hope to meet again.
Page 97 - Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations, bow with sacred joy : Know that the Lord is God alone; He can create, and He destroy. 2. His sovereign power, without our aid, Made us of clay, and formed us men; And when like wandering sheep we strayed, He brought us to His fold again.
Page 126 - Return, O holy Dove, return, Sweet messenger of rest; I hate the sins that made thee mourn, And drove thee from my breast.
Page 103 - Dear dying Lamb ! Thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved, to sin no more. 4 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 146 - Are there no foes for me to face ? Must I not stem the flood ? Is this vile world a friend to grace, To help me on to God ? 4 Sure, I must fight, if I would reign ; Increase my courage, Lord ! I '11 bear the toil, endure the pain, Supported by thy word.
Page 30 - Welcome, sweet day of rest, That saw the Lord arise; Welcome to this reviving breast, And these rejoicing eyes! 2 The King himself comes near, And feasts his saints today, Here we may sit, and see him here, And love, and praise, and pray.
Page 29 - THUS far the Lord has led me on. Thus far His power prolongs my days ; And every evening shall make known Some fresh memorial of His grace. 2 Much of my time has run to waste, And I perhaps am near my home ; But He forgives my follies past, And gives me strength for days to come.
Page 151 - 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 105 - From all that dwell below the skies, Let the Creator's praise arise ; Let the Redeemer's name be sung, Through every land, by every tongue. 2. Eternal are thy mercies, Lord ; Eternal truth attends thy word : Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore, Till suns shall rise and set no more.
Page 19 - Blow ye the trumpet, blow The gladly solemn sound ; Let all the nations know, To earth's remotest bound, The year of Jubilee is come ; Return, ye ransomed sinners, home.

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