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afterwards answer asked became began blessed born brought called child Christ Christian church close commencing dark dear death died door dying early earth England entered eternal expressed eyes face faith father fear feel feet felt gave give given glory hand happy head hear heard heart heaven hope hour hundred hymn Jesus language light lines lips live looked Lord means meet mind minister morning mother never night once opened passed peace poor praise pray prayer preach received rest rise Rock sang Saviour says seemed sent sermon sing sinner song soon soul sound spirit stand sung sweet tears tell thee things thou thought told took turned verse voice wonder write written wrote young
Pagina 26 - WHEN all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise...
Pagina 416 - My faith would lay her hand On that dear head of thine, While like a penitent I stand And there confess my sin.
Pagina 482 - I'LL praise my Maker with my breath ; And when my voice is lost in death, Praise shall employ my nobler powers : My days of praise shall ne'er be past, While life, and thought, and being last, Or immortality endures.
Pagina 155 - SWEET is the work, my God, my King, To praise thy name, give thanks and sing ; To show thy love by morning light, And talk of all thy truth at night.
Pagina 316 - Weak is the effort of my heart, And cold my warmest thought; But when I see Thee as Thou art, I'll praise Thee as I ought.
Pagina 143 - Tis done: the great transaction's done, I am my Lord's, and He is mine: He drew me and I followed on, Charmed to confess the voice divine, 4 Now rest, my long-divided heart, Fixed on this blissful centre, rest; With ashes who would grudge to part, When called on angels
Pagina 111 - 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. 5 Then in a nobler, sweeter song, I'll sing Thy power to save, When this poor lisping, stammering tongue Lies silent in the grave.
Pagina 121 - I heard the bell toll'd on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu!