A Collection of Hymns for the Use of the Wesleyan Methodist Connection of America

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O. Scott, for the Wesleyan Methodist Connection, 1846 - 493 sider
 

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Side 200 - BEFORE JEHOVAH'S awful throne, Ye nations, bow with sacred joy ; Know that the LORD is GOD alone ; He can create, and he destroy.
Side 181 - COME, let us join our cheerful songs, With angels round the throne ; Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one. 2 "Worthy the Lamb that died"— they cry, "To be exalted thus :"— "Worthy the Lamb"— our lips reply,
Side 345 - ' That saw the Lord arise ! Welcome to this reviving breast, And these rejoicing eyes ! 2 The King himself comes near, And feasts his saints to-day ; Here we may sit, and see him here, And love, and praise, and pray.
Side 113 - Prayer is the burden of a sigh ; The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.
Side 323 - HAIL to the Lord's Anointed ! Great David's greater Son ! Hail, in the time appointed, His reign on earth begun ! He comes to break oppression, To set the captive free ; To take away transgression, And rule in equity.
Side 169 - Come, Thou Fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing Thy grace; Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise.
Side 179 - Happy the man whose hopes rely On Israel's God : he made the sky, And earth and seas, with all their train : His truth for ever stands secure ; He saves th' oppressed, he feeds the poor, And none shall find his promise vain.
Side 114 - Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try ; Prayer, the sublimest strains that reach The majesty on high.
Side 200 - 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.
Side 38 - See, from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingled down ! Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown ? 4 Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a present far too small ; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all.

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