Plymouth Collection of Hymns and Tunes: For the Use of Christian Congregations

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Barnes, 1857 - 484页
 

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第163页 - From all that dwell below the skies, Let the Creator's praise arise ; Let the Redeemer's name be sung, Through every land, by every tongue. 2. Eternal are thy mercies, Lord ; Eternal truth attends thy word : Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore, Till suns shall rise and set no more.
第299页 - FROM Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand ; Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand ; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain.
第191页 - 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.
第146页 - WHILE, with ceaseless course, the sun Hasted through the former year, Many souls their race have run, Never more to meet us here : Fixed in an eternal state, They have done with all below : We a little longer wait, But how little none can know.
第227页 - BLEST be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love ; The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above. 2 Before our Father's throne We pour our ardent prayers ; Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one. Our comforts and our cares. 3 We share our mutual woes, Our mutual burdens bear ; And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear.
第163页 - JESUS shall reign where'er the sun Does His successive journeys run ; His kingdom stretch from shore to shore, Till moons shall wax and wane no more.
第177页 - M NOT ashamed to own my Lord, Or to defend his cause ; Maintain the honor of his word, The glory of his cross. 2 Jesus, my God! — I know his name — His name is all my trust; Nor will he put my soul to shame, Nor let my hope be lost.
第299页 - Waft, waft, ye winds, his story, And you, ye waters, roll, Till, like a sea of glory, It spreads from pole to pole ; Till o'er our ransom'd nature, The Lamb for sinners slain, Redeemer, King, Creator, In bliss returns to reign.
第293页 - Lo ! such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod ; Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God.
第261页 - Other refuge have I none ; Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; Leave, ah, leave me not alone ; Still support and comfort me. All my trust on Thee is stayed ; All my help from Thee I bring ; Cover my defenceless head "With the shadow of Thy wing.

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