A Collection of Psalms and Hymns for Social and Private Worship

Capa
Stereotyped by E. White, New-York. New-York: A. Paul, printer, 72 Nassau-Street., 1824 - 420 páginas

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Página 282 - THROUGH all the changing scenes of life, In trouble and in joy, The praises of my God shall still My heart and tongue employ.
Página 367 - O blest abode ! I shall be near and like my God ! And flesh and sin no more control The sacred pleasures of the soul.
Página 94 - THE heavens declare thy glory, Lord ; In every star thy wisdom shines ; But when our eyes behold thy word, We read thy name in fairer lines. 2 The rolling sun, the changing light, And nights and days, thy power confess ; But the blest volume thou hast writ Reveals thy justice and thy grace.
Página 302 - Let the sweet hope that thou art mine My life and death attend; Thy presence through my journey shine, And crown my journey's end.
Página 391 - THUS far the Lord has led me on. Thus far His power prolongs my days ; And every evening shall make known Some fresh memorial of His grace. 2 Much of my time has run to waste, And I perhaps am near my home ; But He forgives my follies past, And gives me strength for days to come.
Página 58 - I'LL praise my Maker with my breath ; And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall employ my nobler powers : My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures.
Página 353 - Here's love and grief beyond degree ; The Lord of glory dies for men !' But, lo ! what sudden joys we see ! Jesus, the dead, revives again...
Página 25 - BEFORE Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations, bow with sacred joy ; Know that the Lord is God alone; He can create, and He destroy.
Página 296 - That day of wrath, .that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay ? How shall he meet that dreadful day ? When, shrivelling like a parched scroll, The flaming heavens together roll ; When louder yet, and yet more dread, Swells the high trump that wakes the dead ! Oh ! on that day, that wrathful day, When man to judgment wakes from clay, Be THOU the trembling sinner's stay, Though heaven and earth shall pass away ! HUSH'D is the harp — the Minstrel...
Página 228 - Thy pleasure mine. 2 Why should I shrink at Thy command, Whose love forbids my fears ? Or tremble at the gracious hand That wipes away my tears...

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