Hymns for the lifting up of the hearts of God's people [ed. by F. Ford].

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49. oldal - GOD moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform ; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sovereign will.
48. oldal - GUIDE me, O thou great Jehovah, 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.
6. oldal - Star of the East, the horizon adorning, guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid. cold on his cradle the dew-drops are shining ; low lies his Head with the beasts of the stall; angels adore Him in slumber reclining, Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of alL...
38. oldal - GREAT God, what do I see and hear! The end of things created ! The Judge of mankind doth appear On clouds of glory seated ! The trumpet sounds ; the graves restore The dead which they contained before ; Prepare, my soul, to meet Him...
158. oldal - Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought; But when I see thee as thou art, I'll praise thee as I ought.
157. oldal - HOW sweet the Name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear. 2 It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast ; 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary rest.
190. oldal - Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
126. oldal - One family we dwell in Him, One Church above, beneath, Though now divided by the stream, The narrow stream, of death : One army of the living God, To His command we bow ; Part of His host have crossed the flood, And part are crossing now.
122. oldal - Paschal Lamb ! by God appointed, All our sins on Thee were laid : By Almighty love anointed, Thou hast full atonement made. All Thy people are forgiven Through the virtue of Thy blood ; Opened is the gate of heaven ; Peace is made 'twixt man and God.
88. oldal - From India's coral strand, Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand ; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain. 2 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...

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