Hymns for Christian Devotion: Especially Adapted to the Universalist Denomination

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Universalist Publishing House, 1849 - 642 Seiten

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Seite 419 - In the cross of Christ I glory,' Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime.
Seite 61 - ' That saw the Lord arise ! Welcome to this reviving breast, And these rejoicing eyes ! 2 The King himself comes near, And feasts his saints to-day ; Here we may sit, and see him here, And love, and praise, and pray.
Seite 133 - Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; 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.
Seite 311 - Feed me till I want no more, Feed me till I want no more. Sel. 372. [H. 220. 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.
Seite 255 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near. 3. Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try ; — Prayer, the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high.
Seite 155 - His head with the beasts of the stall ; Angels adore Him, in slumber reclining, Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all...
Seite 307 - FOR a closer walk with God, A calm and heavenly frame ! A light to shine upon the road, That leads me to the Lamb...
Seite 233 - While life's dark maze I tread, And griefs around me spread, Be Thou my guide ; Bid darkness turn to day, Wipe sorrow's tears away, Nor let me ever stray From Thee aside.
Seite 510 - My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, Thy name I love : I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills; My heart with rapture thrills Like that above.
Seite 203 - He comes, with succor speedy, To those who suffer wrong; To help the poor and needy, And bid the weak be strong; To give them songs for sighing, Their darkness turn to light, Whose souls, condemned and dying, Were precious in his sight.

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