Hymns for the lifting up of the hearts of God's people [ed. by F. Ford].

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1834
 

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˹éÒ 49 - GOD moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform ; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm. Deep in unfathomable mines Of never-failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sovereign will.
˹éÒ 48 - GUIDE me, O thou great Jehovah, Pilgrim through this barren land : I am weak, but thou art mighty ; Hold me with thy powerful hand : Bread of heaven, Feed me till I want no more.
˹éÒ 6 - Star of the East, the horizon adorning, guide where our Infant Redeemer is laid. cold on his cradle the dew-drops are shining ; low lies his Head with the beasts of the stall; angels adore Him in slumber reclining, Maker, and Monarch, and Saviour of alL...
˹éÒ 38 - GREAT God, what do I see and hear! The end of things created ! The Judge of mankind doth appear On clouds of glory seated ! The trumpet sounds ; the graves restore The dead which they contained before ; Prepare, my soul, to meet Him...
˹éÒ 158 - 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.
˹éÒ 157 - HOW sweet the Name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear. 2 It makes the wounded spirit whole, And calms the troubled breast ; 'Tis manna to the hungry soul, And to the weary rest.
˹éÒ 190 - Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
˹éÒ 126 - One family we dwell in Him, One Church above, beneath, Though now divided by the stream, The narrow stream, of death : One army of the living God, To His command we bow ; Part of His host have crossed the flood, And part are crossing now.
˹éÒ 122 - Paschal Lamb ! by God appointed, All our sins on Thee were laid : By Almighty love anointed, Thou hast full atonement made. All Thy people are forgiven Through the virtue of Thy blood ; Opened is the gate of heaven ; Peace is made 'twixt man and God.
˹éÒ 88 - From India's coral strand, Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand ; From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain, They call us to deliver Their land from error's chain. 2 What though the spicy breezes Blow soft o'er Ceylon's isle, Though every prospect pleases, And only man is vile : In vain with lavish kindness The gifts of God are strown ; The heathen, in his blindness, Bows down to wood and stone...

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