The Congregational Psalmist: A Collection of Psalm Tunes Adapted to a Selection of Hymns Contained in the Psalmist and Intended for Congregational Use in Baptist Churches

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W.N. Sage, 1855 - 119 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 79 - Before our Father's throne We pour our ardent prayers ; Our fears, our hopes, our aims, are one, Our comforts and our cares. 3 We share our mutual woes, Our mutual burdens bear ; And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear. 4 When we asunder part, It gives us inward pain ; But we shall still be joined in heart, And hope to meet again.
Pàgina 57 - 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.
Pàgina 27 - MY dear Redeemer, and my Lord, I read my duty in thy word ; But in thy life the law appears Drawn out in living characters. 2 Such was thy truth, and such thy zeal, Such deference to thy Father's will, Such love, and meekness so divine, I would transcribe, and make them mine.
Pàgina 103 - LOVE divine, all love excelling, Joy of heaven, to earth come down ! Fix in us thy humble dwelling, All thy faithful mercies crown.
Pàgina 75 - Then I can smile at Satan's rage, And face a frowning world. 3. ' Let cares, like a wild deluge, come, And storms of sorrow fall ; May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heaven, my all ; — 4. ' There shall I bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest ; And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast.
Pàgina 79 - Welcome, sweet day of rest, That saw the Lord arise; Welcome to this reviving breast, And these rejoicing eyes! 2 The King himself comes near, And feasts his saints today, Here we may sit, and see him here, And love, and praise, and pray.
Pàgina 107 - From India's coral strand ; Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain. 2 What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's. isle ; Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile : In vain with lavish kindness The gifts of God are strown : The heathen in his blindness, Bows down to wood and stone.
Pàgina 79 - BLEST be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love ; The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above. 2 Before our Father's throne We pour our ardent prayers ; Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, Our comforts and our cares. 3 We share our mutual woes, Our mutual burdens bear ; And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear. 4...
Pàgina 14 - BEFORE Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations bow with sacred joy : Know that the Lord is God alone ; He can create, and he destroy. 2 His sovereign power, without our aid, Made us of clay, and formed us men ; And when, like wandering sheep, we strayed, He brought us to his fold again. 3...
Pàgina 75 - 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.

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