Army Song Book

Front Cover
1918 - National songs - 90 pages
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Page 83 - A noble army: men and boys, The matron and the maid ; Around the Saviour's throne rejoice, In robes of light arrayed. They climbed the steep ascent of heaven Through peril, toil, and pain : O God, to us may grace be given To follow in their train.
Page 87 - ROCK of ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee ; Let the water and the blood, From thy wounded side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure, Save from wrath and make me pure.
Page 83 - The martyr first, whose eagle eye Could pierce beyond the grave, Who saw his Master in the sky, And called on Him to save. Like Him, with pardon on His tongue, In midst of mortal pain, He prayed for them that did the wrong; Who follows in His train?
Page 4 - The army and navy forever, Three cheers for the red, white and blue, Three cheers for the red, white and blue, Three cheers for the red, white and blue...
Page 3 - BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC. WIKI.TAM 9TEFFE. E, I _%_ - 'VJT— o ft-*— P- — f—i — 1 *M 1 . 1 1 1 ' 1. Mine eyes have seen the glo - ry of the com - ing of the Lord; He is 2.
Page 75 - I fear no foe with thee at hand to bless; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness; Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if thou abide with me.
Page 90 - From grape mantled bowers, Where landscapes are laughing in mazes of flowers; From mountains, all lighted by sapphire and amber, From cities of marble, from temples and marts, Arise, all ye valiants! your manhood proclaiming, Whilst thunders are meeting, and sabres are flaming, For honour, for glory, the bugles are sounding, To quicken your pulses and gladden your hearts.
Page 70 - TENNYSON. 133 1. Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the west - ern sea, 2.
Page 24 - They hunt no more for the possum and the coon, On the meadow, the hill, and the shore ; They sing no more by the glimmer of the moon, On the bench by the old cabin door.
Page 29 - But might I of Jove's nee - tar sip I would not change for thine. Since when it grows and smells, I swear. Not of it - self but thee.

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