Hymns of Faith and Hope

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James Nisbet & Company, Berners Street., 1859 - 269 páginas
 

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Página 159 - I heard the voice of JESUS say, ' Come unto me and rest ; Lay down, thou weary one, lay down Thy head upon My breast.' I came to JESUS as I was — Weary, and worn, and sad ; I found in Him a resting-place, And He has made me glad. I heard the voice of JESUS say, ' Behold I freely give The living water — thirsty one, Stoop down, and drink, and live.
Página 152 - 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 154 - I WAS a wandering sheep, I did not love the fold ; I did not love my Shepherd's voice, I would not be controlled. I was a wayward child, I did not love my home, I did not love my Father's voice, I loved afar to roam.
Página 153 - 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 250 - I dare not choose my lot : I would not, if I might ; Choose thou for me, my God, So shall I walk aright.
Página 155 - The Shepherd sought His sheep; The Father sought His child ; They followed me o'er vale and hill, O'er deserts waste and wild. They found me nigh to death, Famished, and faint, and lone ; They bound me with the bands of love ; They saved the wandering one.
Página 14 - Partings, claspings, sob and moan, Midnight waking, twilight weeping, Heavy noontide, — all are done ; Where the child has found its mother, Where the mother finds the child ; Where dear families are gathered That were scattered on the wild...
Página 39 - THE Church has waited long Her absent Lord to see ; And still in loneliness she waits, A friendless stranger she. Age after age has gone, Sun after sun has set, And still, in weeds of widowhood, She weeps a mourner yet.
Página 112 - A few more suns shall set O'er these dark hills of time, And we shall be where suns are not, A far serener clime : Then, O my Lord, prepare My soul for that blest day; O wash me in thy precious blood, And take my sins away.
Página 113 - A few more struggles here, A few more partings o'er, A few more toils, a few more tears, And we shall weep no more.

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