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PÓgina 264 - One army of the living God, To his command we bow ; Part of the host have crossed the flood, And part are crossing now.
PÓgina 25 - Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son, The ill that I this day have done ; That with the world, myself, and thee, I, ere I sleep, at peace may be. 3 Teach me to live, that I may dread The grave as little as my bed ; Teach me to die, that so I may Rise glorious at the awful day.
PÓgina 99 - Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, Save in the death of Christ my God; All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to his blood.
PÓgina 59 - A thousand ages in thy sight Are like an evening gone, Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun. 5 Time, like an ever-rolling stream, Bears all its sons away ; They fly forgotten, as a dream Dies at the opening day.
PÓgina 300 - Pilgrim through this barren land ; I am weak, but thou art mighty; Hold me with thy powerful hand ; Bread of heaven, Feed me till I want no more. 2 Open thou the crystal fountain Whence the healing streams do flow ; Let the fiery, cloudy pillar Lead me all my journey through ; Strong Deliverer, Be thou still my Strength and Shield. 3 When I tread the verge of Jordan, Bid my anxious fears subside; Death of death ! and hell's Destruction! Land me safe on Canaan's side ; Songs of praises I will ever...
PÓgina 288 - 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.
PÓgina 76 - COME, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all Thy quickening powers, Kindle a flame of sacred love In these cold hearts of ours. 2 Look how we grovel here below, Fond of these trifling toys : Our souls can neither fly nor go To reach eternal joys.
PÓgina 55 - When in the slippery paths of youth With heedless steps I ran, Thine arm, unseen, conveyed me safe, And led me up to man. 4 Ten thousand thousand precious gifts My daily thanks employ ; Nor is the least a cheerful heart That tastes those gifts with joy.
PÓgina 121 - IN the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime.