The Bible hymn-book [compiled by H. Bonar]. (Google eBook)

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Edinburgh, 1845 - Hymns, English - 256 pages
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Page 4 - So shall my walk be close with God, Calm and serene my frame ; So purer light shall mark the road, That leads me to the Lamb.
Page 245 - Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget The wormwood and the gall; Go, spread your trophies at his feet, And crown him Lord of all.
Page 35 - Abide with me from morn till eve, For without thee I cannot live ; Abide with me when night is nigh, For without thee I dare not die.
Page 153 - JUST as I am, without one plea, But that thy blood was shed for me, And that thou bid'st me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come...
Page 143 - Prince of peace ! Hail, the Sun of righteousness ! Light and life to all He brings, Risen with healing in His wings : Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die ; Born to raise the sons of earth ; Born to give them second birth.
Page 166 - Say, poor sinner, lov'st thou me ? 2 I deliver'd thee when bound, And when bleeding, heal'd thy wound ; Sought thee wandering, set thee right, Turn'd thy darkness into light. 3 Can a woman's tender care Cease towards the child she bare ? Yes, she may forgetful be, Yet will I remember thee.
Page 104 - I long to be like Jesus, Meek, loving, lowly, mild ; I long to be like Jesus, The Father's Holy Child. I long to be with Jesus, Amid the heavenly throng, To sing with saints His praises, To learn the angels
Page 103 - White in his blood most precious, Till not a spot remains. 2 I lay my wants on Jesus ; All fulness dwells in him ; He heals all my diseases, He doth my soul redeem. I lay my griefs on Jesus, My burdens and my cares; He from them all releases, He all my sorrows shares. 3 I rest my soul on Jesus, This weary soul of mine ; His right hand me embraces, I on his breast recline. I love the name of Jesus, Immanuel, Christ, the Lord; Like fragrance on the breezes, His name abroad is poured.
Page 216 - Jerusalem, my happy home, My soul still pants for thee ; Then shall my labours have an end, When I thy joys shall see.
Page 21 - 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 ransom'd sinners, home.

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