The Methodist scholars' hymn-book, Volum 2

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Passatges populars

Pàgina 50 - Lo ! such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod ; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God. 3 By cool Siloam's shady rill The lily must decay; The rose that blooms beneath the hill Must shortly fade away.
Pàgina 27 - WHEN his salvation bringing, To Zion Jesus came, The children all stood singing Hosanna to his name. Nor did their zeal offend him ; But as he rode along, He let them still attend him, And smiled to hear their song.
Pàgina 60 - Not there, not there, my child !" " Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings, Bear the rich hues of all glorious things...
Pàgina 53 - THUS far the Lord has led me on ; Thus far his power prolongs my days ; And every evening shall make known Some fresh memorial of his grace. 2 Much of my time has run to waste, And I, perhaps, am near my home ; But he forgives my follies past ; He gives me strength for days to come.
Pàgina 60 - Is it far away, in some region old, Where the rivers wander o'er sands of gold, Where the burning rays of the ruby shine, And the diamond lights up the secret mine, And the pearl gleams forth from the coral strand? Is it there, sweet mother! that better land? Not there, not there, my child ! Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy!
Pàgina 60 - Not there, not there, my child! Is it where the feathery palm-trees rise, . And the date grows ripe under sunny skies ? Or 'midst the green islands of glittering seas, Where fragrant forests perfume the breeze, And strange bright birds on their starry wings, Bear the rich hues of all glorious things? Not there, not there, my child!
Pàgina 18 - Jesus is our Shepherd ; For the sheep He bled; Every lamb is sprinkled With the blood He shed ; Then on each He setteth His own secret sign, — "They that have My Spirit, "These,
Pàgina 62 - We speak of its freedom from sin, From sorrow, temptation, and care, From trials without and within, But what must it be to be there?
Pàgina 36 - How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower!
Pàgina 54 - Let my sins be all forgiven ! Bless the friends I love so well ! Take me, when I die, to heaven, Happy there with thee to dwell ! VI.

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