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Many Voices, Or Carmina Sanctorum, Evangelistic Edition with Tunes (Classic ...
Thomas De Witt Talmage
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2017
adore ages angels bear Behold bless blest blood bright bring Christ Christian comes cross crown dark dear death divine earth eternal eyes face faith fall Father fear feet flow foes forever Friend GEORGE give given glad glorious glory God's grace Guide hand happy hast hath hear heart Heaven heavenly HENRY Holy Holy Ghost hope hour HYMN Isaac Watts Jesus John keep King Lamb land lead Lift light live Look Lord MASON meet morning Name never night o'er peace praise pray prayer raise reign rejoice rest rise saints Saviour seek shine sing sinners sins song soon sorrow soul sound Spirit stand strength sweet Take tears tell Thee Thine Thou Thou art throne trust truth voice wait wandering weary
Seite 119 - 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.
Seite 201 - Renew my will from day to day; Blend it with Thine, and take away All that now makes it hard to say, Thy will be done.
Seite 52 - Cold on his cradle the dewdrops are shining, Low lies his head with the beasts of the stall, Angels adore him in slumber reclining, Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all!
Seite 179 - Thou, O Christ, art all I want, More than all in thee I find ! Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, Heal the sick, and lead the blind ; Just and holy is thy name, I am all unrighteousness ; False and full of sin I am, Thou art full of truth and grace.
Seite 204 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.
Seite 20 - 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.
Seite 193 - I'd be Nearer, my God, to Thee, — Nearer to Thee ! 3 There let the way appear, Steps unto heaven ; All that Thou sendest me, In mercy given : Angels to beckon me Nearer, my God, to Thee, — Nearer to Thee...
Seite 167 - WAKE, my soul, stretch every nerve, •'*• And press with vigor on : A heavenly race demands thy zeal, And an immortal crown. 2 A cloud of witnesses around Hold thee in full survey : Forget the steps already trod, And onward urge thy way. 3 Tis God's all-animating voice That calls thee from on high ; 'Tis His own hand presents the prize To thine aspiring eye. 4 That prize with peerless glories bright, Which shall new lustre boast, When victors' wreaths and monarchs' gems Shall blend in common dust.