The Christian Psalmist: Or, Hymns, Selected and Original, with an Introductory Essay

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Chalmers and Collins, 1825 - Hymns - 444 pages
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Page 302 - Are there no foes for me to face ? Must I not stem the flood ? Is this vile world a friend to grace, To help me on to God ? 4 Sure I must fight, if I would reign ; Increase my courage, Lord ; I'll bear the toil, endure the pain, Supported, by thy word.
Page 189 - COME, let us join our cheerful songs, With angels round the throne ; Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one. 2 " Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry, " To be exalted thus :" — " Worthy the Lamb," our lips reply,
Page 380 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye When none but God is near.
Page 227 - BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid ; Star of the east, the horizon adorning, Guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid.
Page 200 - Direct, control, suggest this day, All I design, or do, or say ; That all my powers, with all their might, In Thy sole glory may unite...
Page 106 - Strong in the Lord of Hosts, And in his mighty power; Who in the strength of Jesus trusts Is more than conqueror.
Page 52 - The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand. 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...
Page 303 - A calm and heavenly frame ; A light to shine upon the road That leads me to the Lamb. 2 Where is the blessedness I knew When first I saw the Lord ? Where is the soul-refreshing view Of Jesus and his word ? 3 What peaceful hours I once enjoyed ; How sweet their memory still ! But they have left an aching void The world can never fill.
Page 57 - O happy souls that pray Where God appoints to hear ! O happy men that pay Their constant service there ! They praise Thee still ; And happy they That love the way To Zion's hill.
Page 317 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread, Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.

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