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Abba Father angels Art thou behold bless blest bliss blood breast breath bright Canaan canst Christ clouds crown dark dear death divine doth dwell earth earthly Eben-ezer eternal everlasting everlasting love evermore eyes faint faith Father fear feet foes give glorious glory God's gracious grief Hallelujah happy hath hear heart heaven heavenly hell holy hope hour Jesus King Lamb Lamb of God land light live look Lord love possess mortal never nigh night o'er pain peace poor praise pray prayer promise rapturous songs Redeemer reign rejoice rest rise saints salvation Satan Saviour shalt shine sing sinners sins skies song sorrow soul spirit strength strong to save sweet tears tempests thee thine thou art thou hast thou wilt thought throne thy face thy grace thy hand thy love thy word trust unto voice wait weary weep ye saints
Page 5 - HOW sweet the Name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear.
Page 235 - The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree ; And seem, by Thy sweet bounty made, For those who follow Thee.
Page 207 - How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord, Is laid for your faith in his excellent word! What more can he say than to you he hath said ? You, who unto Jesus for refuge have fled.
Page 102 - The Lord, ye know, is God indeed ; Without our aid He did us make : We are His flock, He doth us feed, And for His sheep He doth us take.
Page 34 - 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.
Page 583 - FRIEND after friend departs : Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts, That finds not here an end: Were this frail world our final rest, Living or dying, none were blest.
Page 623 - Here in the body pent, Absent from him I roam, Yet nightly pitch my moving tent A day's march nearer home.
Page 218 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head. Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace ; Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face. His purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour ; The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower.
Page 444 - Dear Lord ! and shall we ever live At this poor dying rate ? Our love so faint, so cold to thee, And thine to us so great? 5 Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all thy quickening powers ; Come, shed abroad a Saviour's love, And that shall kindle ours.