Hymns for the Use of the Methodist Episcopal Church

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Lane & Scott, 1849 - Children's songs - 736 pages
 

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Page 299 - Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try ; Prayer, the sublimest strains that reach The majesty on high. 4 Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, . The Christian's native air ; His watchword at the gates of death; He enters heaven with prayer. 5 Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice Returning from his ways ; While angels in their songs rejoice And cry,
Page 326 - Wake, and lift up thyself, my heart, And with the angels bear thy part, Who all night long, unwearied, sing High praise to the eternal King.
Page 370 - The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes! my ears With sounds seraphic ring: Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy victory? O Death! where is thy sting?
Page 16 - We'll crowd Thy gates with thankful songs, High as the heavens our voices raise ; And Earth, with her ten thousand tongues, Shall fill thy courts with sounding praise. 5 Wide as the world is Thy command, Vast as eternity Thy Love ; Firm as a rock Thy truth must stand, When rolling years shall cease to move.
Page 9 - COME, let us join our cheerful songs, With angels round the throne ; Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one. 2 "Worthy the Lamb that died"— they cry, "To be exalted thus :"— "Worthy the Lamb"— our lips reply,
Page 85 - 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 525 - Rise, my soul, and haste away To seats prepared above. 2 Rivers to the ocean run, Nor stay in all their course ; Fire, ascending, seeks the sun ; Both speed them to their source : So a soul, that's born of God, Pants to view His glorious face, Upward tends to His abode, To rest in His embrace.
Page 161 - Dear dying Lamb ! thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved, to sin no more. 4 E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply, Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be, till I die.
Page 572 - Lo ! such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod ; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God. 3 By cool Siloam's shady rill The lily must decay; The rose that blooms beneath the hill Must shortly fade away.
Page 169 - Let not conscience make you linger, Nor of fitness fondly dream ; All the fitness he requireth, Is to feel your need of him ; This he gives you ; 'Tis the Spirit's rising beam.

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