Hymns of the Church Militant

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Anna Bartlett Warner
R. Carter, 1859 - Hymns, English - 640 pages

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Page 137 - My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of Thine, While like a penitent I stand, And there confess my sin.
Page 34 - See ! the streams of living waters, Springing from eternal love, Well supply thy sons and daughters, And all fear of want remove : Who can faint, while such a river Ever flows their thirst to assuage ? — Grace, which, like the Lord, the Giver, Never fails from age to age.
Page 170 - ROCK of ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee ; Let the Water and the Blood, From Thy riven side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure, . Cleanse me from its guilt and power...
Page 6 - Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee! E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song shall be. Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee!
Page 381 - THERE is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign ; Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours. Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood Stand dressed in living green ; So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between.
Page 568 - JESU, lover of my soul, Let me to thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high. Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past: Safe into the haven guide; O receive my soul at last.
Page 233 - 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 204 - 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 252 - Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, Yet will I fear none ill : For thou art with me ; and thy rod And staff me comfort still.

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