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a-bove Austin Miles bide blest blood bove bright Charles Wesley Chokus Chorus Christ cleanse Copyright crown darkness dear died E. E. Hewitt earth faith fear give glad morning glory grief H. L. Gilmour Hall-Mack hand hast shut thy hath hear heart heav heav'nly heaven heaven's gate Ho-ly I I I iour Je-sus Jesus King knock Lamb land Let the blessed light Lincoln Hall lone Lord love shines Lowell Mason MCMIII nearer never night O-ver pow'r praise pray precious rest saved by grace Saviour Saviour's love shut thy door sing sinner sins song soul stand streets of gold sun-light sweet tell thee There's thine Thou art thou hast shut throne tithes truel trust waiting weary Wenonah wondrous
Page 138 - 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 127 - Work, for the night is coming, When man works no more. 3 Work, for the night is coming, Under the sunset skies; While their bright tints are glowing, Work, for daylight flies : Work, till the last beam fadeth, Fadeth to shine no more : Work, while the night is darkening, When man's work is o'er.
Page 138 - My native country! thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills, .Like that above.
Page 139 - 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 139 - Dear dying Lamb ! thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved, to sin no more.
Page 139 - O happy bond, that seals my vows To Him, who merits all my love! Let cheerful anthems fill His house, While to that, sacred shrine I move.
Page 141 - If our love were but more simple, We should take him at his word ; And our lives would be all sunshine In the sweetness of our Lord.
Page 138 - Rock of a - ges, cleft for me, Let me hide my - self in Thee...
Page 145 - 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.