A Sunday School Hymn Book: with Devotional Services

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J. Munroe, 1857 - 192 páginas
 

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Página 64 - Hark ! hark ! to God the chorus breaks, From every host, from every gem, But one alone the Saviour speaks — It is the star of Bethlehem...
Página 123 - How blest the righteous when he dies! When sinks a weary soul to rest, How mildly beam the closing eyes! How gently heaves the expiring breast ! 2 So fades a summer cloud away ; So sinks the gale when storms are o'er ; So gently shuts the eye of day ; So dies a wave along the shore.
Página 65 - O'er this benighted soul of mine. 3. Ashamed of Jesus ! — that dear friend On whom my hopes of heaven depend ? No ! when I blush, be this my shame, — That I no more revere his name.
Página 133 - 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.
Página 169 - What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see good ? Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile. Depart from evil, and do good, seek peace, and pursue it.
Página 122 - There ha'ppier bowers than Eden's bloom, Nor sin nor sorrow know ; Blest seats ! through rude and stormy scenes I onward press to you.
Página 131 - ... first arise At the last trumpet's sounding ; Caught up to meet Him in the skies, With joy their Lord surrounding. No gloomy fears their souls dismay, His presence sheds eternal day On those prepared to meet Him.
Página 60 - Fear not, said he, (for mighty dread Had seized their troubled mind,) Glad tidings of great joy I bring To you and all mankind.
Página 37 - With all-engaging charms ; Hark ! how he calls the tender lambs, And folds them in his arms! 2 " Permit them to approach," he cries, " Nor scorn their humble name ; For 'twas to bless such souls as these, The Lord of angels came.
Página 79 - It is finished" — hear him cry ; Learn of Jesus Christ to die. 4. Early hasten to the tomb, Where they laid His breathless clay ; All is solitude and gloom, — Who hath taken Him away ? Christ is risen ; He meets our eyes ; Saviour, teach us so to rise.

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