The Eastern Harp: A Collection of Tunes and Hymns, Original and Selected, for the Use of Sabbath Schools

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1848 - 238 Seiten
 

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Seite 88 - He reigns and triumphs here." 3 How happy are our ears, That hear this joyful sound, Which kings and prophets waited for, And sought, but never found ! 4 How blesse'd are our eyes, That see this heavenly light ! Prophets and kings desired it long, But died without the sight.
Seite 29 - While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains. Repeat the sounding joy. 3 No more let sins and sorrows grow, Nor thorns infest the ground ; He comes to make his blessings flow Far as the curse is found.
Seite 81 - My native country, thee, Land of the noble free, — Thy name I love ; I love thy rocks and rills, Thy woods and templed hills ; My heart with rapture thrills Like that above.
Seite 27 - Then I can smile at Satan's rage, And face a frowning world. 3 Let cares like a wild deluge come, And storms of sorrow fall ; May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heaven, my all...
Seite 18 - Ye chosen seed of Israel's race, Ye ransomed from the fall ; Hail him, who saves you by his grace, And crown him Lord of all. 4 Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget The wormwood and the gall, Go, spread your trophies at his feet, And crown him Lord of all, 5 Let every kindred, every tribe, On this terrestrial ball.
Seite 12 - E'er since, by faith, I saw the stream Thy flowing wounds supply, Redeeming love has been my theme, And shall be till I die.
Seite 209 - As the winged arrow flies, Speedily the mark to find ; As the lightning from the skies Darts, and leaves no trace behind ; Swiftly thus our fleeting days Bear us down life's rapid stream.
Seite 15 - Give me understanding, and I shall keep thy law; yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart.
Seite 17 - BY cool Siloam's shady rill How sweet the lily grows ; How sweet the breath, beneath the hill, Of Sharon's dewy rose ! 2 Lo ! such the child whose early feet The paths of peace have trod, Whose secret heart, with influence sweet, Is upward drawn to God.
Seite 55 - 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. 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.

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