The Scottish Hymnal (appendix Incorporated). With Tunes, for Use in Churches

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Contents

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543

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Page 46 - BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness, and lend us thine aid ; Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid...
Page 190 - Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to Thy cross I cling; ' Naked, come to Thee for dress, Helpless, look to Thee for grace; Foul, I to the fountain fly; Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
Page 34 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head...
Page 334 - And pleasures banish pain. 2 There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers ; Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours. 3 Sweet fields, beyond the swelling flood, Stand dressed in living green ; So to the Jews old Canaan stood, While Jordan rolled between.
Page 237 - HOW sweet the name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear. 2 It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast: 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, And, to the weary, rest.
Page 333 - THERE is a land of pure delight, Where saints immortal reign, Infinite day excludes the night, And pleasures banish pain. 2 There everlasting spring abides, And never-withering flowers : Death, like a narrow sea, divides This heavenly land from ours.
Page 6 - Holy, holy, holy ! though the darkness hide thee, Though the eye of sinful man thy glory may not see, Only thou art holy ; there is none beside thee Perfect in power, in love, and purity.
Page 150 - People and realms of every tongue Dwell on His love with sweetest song ; And infant voices shall proclaim Their early blessings on His Name. 4 Blessings abound where'er He reigns; The prisoner leaps to lose his chains, The weary find eternal rest, And all the sons of want are blest.
Page 316 - FRIEND after friend departs : Who hath not lost a friend ? There is no union here of hearts That finds not here an end: Were this frail world our only rest.
Page 356 - Direct, control, suggest, this day, All I design, or do, or say; That all my powers, with all their might, In Thy sole glory may unite.

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