St. Olave's [by E. Stephenson].

Hurst and Blackett, 1863

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Página 261 - The Father hears him pray, His dear anointed One : He cannot turn away The presence of his Son : His Spirit answers to the blood, And tells me I am born of God. 5 My God is reconciled ; His pardoning voice I hear : He owns me for his child ; I can no longer fear: With confidence I now draw nigh, And, "Father, Abba, Father,
Página 257 - I LAY my sins on Jesus, The spotless Lamb of God ; He bears them all, and frees us From the accursed load. I bring my guilt to Jesus, To wash my crimson stains White in his Blood most precious, Till not a spot remains.
Página 258 - I long to be like Jesus, Meek, loving, lowly, mild; I long to be like Jesus, The Father's holy child ; I long to be with Jesus, Amid the heavenly throng, To sing with saints His praises, To learn the angels
Página 271 - ... by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend ? For so the whole round world is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
Página 143 - It was the first time he had called her by her name since the funeral.
Página 258 - I rest my soul on Jesus, This weary soul of mine; His right hand me embraces, I on His breast recline: I love the name of Jesus, Immanuel, Christ, the Lord: Like fragrance on the breezes His name abroad is poured.
Página 263 - It is not for me to be seeking my bliss And building my hopes in a region like this : I look for a city which hands have not piled ; I pant for a country by sin undefiled.
Página 257 - Tis enough that he is nigh. He will all thy burden bear : He will all thy wants supply. 2 He thy soul will safely lead : In his tender love confide ! Call on him in time of need ; He will be thy Guard and Guide.
Página 263 - Home ! home ! sweet home ! There's no place like heaven, there's no place like home." They sang it to the tune of " Home, sweet Home/
Página 263 - MY rest is in heaven ; my rest is not here ; Then why should I murmur when trials are near ? Be hushed, my dark spirit ! the worst that can come But shortens thy journey, and hastens thee home.

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