Hymns for the Use of the Methodist Episcopal Church: With Tunes for Congregational Worship ... 19 Thousand

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Carlton & Porter, 1857 - Hymns, English - 368 pages
 

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Page 79 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh ; The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.
Page 186 - I'LL praise my Maker while I've 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.
Page 205 - There if thy Spirit touch the soul, And grace her mean abode, Oh ! with what peace, and joy, and love, She communes with her God. 4 There, like the nightingale, she pours Her solitary lays, Nor asks a witness of her song, Nor thirsts for human praise.
Page 116 - Soldiers of Christ, arise, And put your armour on; Strong in the strength which God supplies, Through his eternal Son; Strong in the Lord of Hosts, And in his mighty power; Who in the strength of Jesus trusts Is more than conqueror.
Page 181 - So fades a summer cloud away; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er; So gently shuts the eye of day; So dies a wave along the shore.
Page 158 - Blow ye the trumpet, blow, The gladly solemn sound ; Let all the nations know, To earth's remotest bound ; The year of jubilee is come ; Return, ye ransom'd sinners, home.
Page 97 - Twere vain the ocean depths to sound, Or pierce to either pole. 2 The world can never give The bliss for which we sigh: 'Tis not the whole of life to live, Nor all of death to die. 3 Beyond this vale of tears There is a life above, Unmeasured by the flight of years; And all that life is love.
Page 32 - 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.
Page 280 - 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.
Page 69 - He comes the prisoners to release, In Satan's bondage held ; The gates of brass before Him burst, The iron fetters yield.

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