A selection of psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, to the praise and glory of Jehovah [ed. by G.W. Straton].

Portada
George W Straton
1837
 

Què opinen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya

No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.

Pàgines seleccionades

Frases i termes més freqüents

Passatges populars

Pàgina 69 - 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!
Pàgina 233 - Rivers to the ocean run, Nor stay in all their course ; Fire ascending seeks the sun ; Both speed them to their source : So a soul that's born of God Pants to view his glorious face, Upward tends to his abode, To rest in his embrace.
Pàgina 231 - THERE is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign ; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours.
Pàgina 28 - Come, Thou Fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing Thy grace; Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise.
Pàgina 181 - GLORIOUS things of thee are spoken, Zion, city of our God ! He whose word cannot be broken, Formed thee for his own abode : On the Rock of Ages founded — What can shake thy sure repose? With salvation's walls surrounded, Thou may'st smile at all thy foes.
Pàgina 305 - People and realms of every tongue Dwell on his love with sweetest song ; And infant voices shall proclaim Their early blessings on his name. 4 Blessings abound where'er he reigns ; The prisoner leaps to lose his chains ; The weary find eternal rest ; And all the sons of want are blest.
Pàgina 210 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head.
Pàgina 65 - Dear dying Lamb ! Thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved, to sin no more.
Pàgina 61 - My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin. 4 My soul looks back to see The burdens thou didst bear, When hanging on th' accursed tree ; And hopes her guilt was there.
Pàgina 132 - Oh for grace our hearts to soften ! Teach us, Lord, at length to love ! We, alas ! forget too often What a Friend we have above ; But when home our souls are brought, We will love Thee as we ought MERWIN.

Informació bibliogràfica