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adored Arouse thee beam become eternity Beethoven blest breast breath bright chain of love Christ dark dead death deed divine doth dreams dust dwell earth Emily Taylor evermore faith Father Father divine feel flowers flows sparkling footfall footsteps gentle gloom glorious glory glows golden Golden ear grace grave Gregorian Chant grief Hallelujah hallowed happy hast hath heart Thy soul heaven heavenly holy hope hour human heart Hymn immortal lisp Lord mercies are sure mercies aye endure morning mourn Nature's Nearer to thee night o'er peace rest round sacred sage Sarah F shade shew shine sing skies sleep song of praise sorrow soul shall save spirit stars sweet Taylor's Collection Teach tears temples There's thine own heart thou art thought throne Thy mercy endureth thy name tide Truth to thine unto voice wave weary weep winds wisdom worship
Page liv - IN the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime.
Page ix - Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
Page lx - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page xxxviii - God before her moved, An awful guide, in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonished lands The cloudy pillar glided slow ; By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands Returned the fiery column's glow.
Page lxxxiv - Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to thee: E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song shall be, Nearer, my God, to thee, Nearer to Thee.
Page cxl - SWEET Day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky, The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die.
Page cxxx - But love is indestructible— Its holy flame for ever burneth ; From heaven it came, to heaven returneth.
Page vii - LET us, with a gladsome mind, Praise the Lord, for he is kind ; For his mercies aye endure, Ever faithful, ever sure.