Hymn Book of the Methodist Protestant Church

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Methodist Protestant Publishing House, 1864 - 648 pàgines
 

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Pàgina 203 - I'LL praise my Maker while I Ve breath, And, when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall employ my nobler powers ; — My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life and thought and being last, Or immortality endures.
Pàgina 75 - 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.
Pàgina 247 - 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 When we asunder part, It gives us inward pain ; But we shall still be joined in heart, And hope to meet again.
Pàgina 212 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near. 3 Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try; Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high. 4 Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice, Returning from his ways; While angels in their songs rejoice And cry, "Behold, he prays!
Pàgina 224 - Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly.. While the nearer waters roll While the tempest still is high; Hide me, O my Saviour hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide, O receive my soul at last.
Pàgina 148 - In vain we tune our formal songs ; In vain we strive to rise ; Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies.
Pàgina 501 - With grateful hearts the past we own ; The future all to us unknown, We to thy guardian care commit, And peaceful leave before thy feet.
Pàgina 112 - T'HERE is a fountain filled with blood -*. Drawn from Immanuel's veins ; And sinners plunged beneath that flood, Lose all their guilty stains. '2 The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day ; And there may I, though vile as he, Wash all my sins away.
Pàgina 68 - 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 shall stand, When rolling years shall cease to move.
Pàgina 523 - Rise, crowned with light, imperial Salem, rise ! Exalt thy towery head, and lift thy eyes ! See, a long race thy spacious courts adorn ; See future sons, and daughters yet unborn, In crowding ranks on every side arise, Demanding life, impatient for the skies...

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