The Christian Harp: A Collection of Hymns and Tunes for the Use of Social, Religious Meetings and Sabbath Schools

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B.F. Carter, 1853 - Hymns, English - 144 pages
 

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Page 26 - Dear dying Lamb ! thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved to sin no more.
Page 59 - 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 ! 3 Shall we, whose souls are lighted With wisdom from on high, Shall we to men benighted The lamp of life deny?
Page 7 - Exceeds a thousand days of mirth. 2 Might I enjoy the meanest place Within thy house, O God of grace, Not tents of ease, nor thrones of power, Should tempt my feet to leave thy door. 3 God is our sun, he makes our day ; God is our shield, he guards our way From all th' assaults of hell and sin, From foes without and foes within.
Page 16 - Ye chosen seed of Israel's race, Ye ransomed from the fall ; Hail him, who saves you by his grace, And crown him Lord of all. 4 Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget The wormwood and the gall, Go, spread your trophies at his feet, And crown him Lord of all, 5 Let every kindred, every tribe, On this terrestrial ball.
Page 23 - Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought; But when I see Thee as Thou art, I'll praise Thee as I ought.
Page 19 - Let all that dwell above the sky, And air, and earth, and seas, Conspire to lift Thy glories high, And speak Thine endless praise.
Page 9 - My God, permit me not to be A stranger to myself and thee; Amidst a thousand thoughts I rove Forgetful of my highest love. 2 Why should my passions mix with earth, And thus debase my heavenly birth? Why should I cleave to things below, And let my God, my Saviour go?
Page 45 - COME, ye sinners, poor and needy, Weak and wounded, sick and sore ; Jesus ready stands to save you, Full of pity, love, and power : He is able, He is willing : doubt no more.
Page 42 - My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of thine, While like a penitent I stand And there confess my sin.
Page 32 - The men of grace have found Glory begun below ; Celestial fruits on earthly ground From faith and hope may grow. 4 The hill of Zion yields A thousand sacred sweets Before we reach the heavenly fields, Or walk the golden streets.

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