The Evolution of the English Hymn: An Historical Survey of the Origins and Development of the Hymns of the Christian Church

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Macmillan, 1927 - Hymns, English - 312 pages

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Page 268 - Gentle Jesus, meek and mild, Look upon a little child ; Pity my simplicity, Suffer me to come to Thee.
Page 206 - 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 : Worthy the Lamb, our lips reply, For he was slain for us.
Page 169 - MY soul, there is a country Far beyond the stars, Where stands a winged sentry All skilful in the wars: There, above noise and danger, Sweet Peace sits crown'd with smiles, And One born in a manger Commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious Friend, And — O my soul, awake ! — Did in pure love descend To die here for thy sake. If thou canst get but thither, There grows the flower of Peace, The Rose that cannot wither, Thy fortress, and thy ease. Leave then thy foolish ranges; For none can...
Page 237 - FAR from the world, O Lord, I flee, From strife and tumult far ; From scenes where Satan wages still His most successful war. 2 The calm retreat, the silent shade, With prayer and praise agree, And seem by thy sweet bounty made For those who follow thee.
Page 158 - Most glorious Lord of life ! that, on this day, Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin ; And, having harrowed hell, didst bring away Captivity thence captive, us to win...
Page 210 - Must I be carried to the skies On flowery beds of ease, While others fought to win the prize, And sailed through bloody seas...
Page 222 - No foot of land do I possess ; No cottage in this wilderness: A poor way-faring man, I lodge awhile in tents below, Or gladly wander to and fro, Till I my Canaan gain.
Page 235 - THE billows swell, the winds are high, Clouds overcast my wint'ry sky ; Out of the depths to thee I call, My fears are great, my strength is small. 2 O LORD, the pilot's part perform, And guide and guard me through the storm ; Defend me from each threat'ning ill, Control the waves, say,
Page 198 - As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he keeps them in very good order, and will suffer nobody to sleep in it besides himself ; for if by chance he has been surprised into a short nap at sermon, upon recovering out of it he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees anybody else nodding, either wakes them himself, or sends his servants to them.
Page 82 - Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame, Nor can the memory find, A sweeter sound than thy blest name, O Saviour of mankind!

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