Sacred Poetry: consisting of Psalms and Hyms sdapted to Christian Devotion

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Page 39 - THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye : My noon-day walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
Page 249 - Here's love and grief beyond degree ; The Lord of glory dies for men !' But, lo ! what sudden joys we see ! Jesus, the dead, revives again...
Page 4 - O gracious God, in whom I live, My feeble efforts aid ; Help me to watch, and pray, and strive, Though trembling and afraid.
Page 139 - We'll crowd thy gates with thankful songs, High as the heavens our voices raise : And earth, with her ten thousand tongues, Shall fill thy courts with sounding praise. 5 Wide as the world is thy command, Vast as eternity thy love ; Firm as a rock thy truth must stand, When rolling years shall cease to move.
Page 195 - What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball ; What though no real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found; In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made us is divine.
Page 39 - Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread, My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord, art with me still : Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade.
Page 85 - Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest ; The glories that compose thy name Stand all engaged to make me blest. 2 Thou great and good, thou just and wise, Thou art my Father and my God ; And I am thine by sacred ties, Thy son, thy servant, bought with blood.
Page 206 - Tis his almighty love, His counsel and his care, Preserves us safe from sin and death, And every hurtful snare. 3 He will present our souls, Unblemished and complete, Before the glory of his face, With joys divinely great.
Page 221 - Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the death of Christ, my God ; All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to his blood.
Page 215 - Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart, That tastes those gifts with joy.

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