The New Hymn Book: Designed for Universalist Societies

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B. B. Mussey, 1841 - 410 pages

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Page 6 - BEFORE Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations bow with sacred joy : Know that the Lord is God alone ; He can create, and he destroy. 2 His sovereign power, without our aid, Made us of clay, and formed us men ; And when, like wandering sheep, we strayed, He brought us to his fold again.
Page 5 - Soon as the evening shades prevail The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the listening earth Repeats the story of her birth ; 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.
Page 182 - 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 blessed are our eyes, That see this heavenly light ! Prophets and kings desired it long, But died without the sight. 5 The watchmen join their voice, And tuneful notes employ; Jerusalem breaks forth in songs, And deserts learn the joy. 6 The Lord makes bare his arm Through all the earth abroad ; Let every nation now behold Their Saviour and...
Page 380 - Must I be carried to the skies On flowery beds of ease, While others fought to win the prize, And sailed through bloody seas ? 3 Are there no foes for me to face ? Must I not stem the flood ? Is this vile world a friend to grace, To help me on to God...
Page 47 - 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.
Page 302 - In darkest shades if he appear, My dawning is begun ! He is my soul's sweet morning star, And he my rising sun. 3 The opening heavens around me shine With beams of sacred bliss, While Jesus shows his heart is mine, And whispers, ' I am his !' 4 My soul would leave this heavy clay At that transporting word, Run up with joy the shining way, T
Page 309 - Our souls can neither fly nor go To reach eternal joys. 3 In vain we tune our formal songs, In vain we strive to rise ; Hosannas languish on our tongues, And our devotion dies. 4 Dear Lord, and shall we ever live At this poor, dying rate ! Our love so faint, so cold to Thee, And Thine to us so great ! 5 Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all Thy quickening powers ! Come, shed abroad a Saviour's love, And that shall kindle ours.
Page 139 - Thus might I hide my blushing face, While his dear cross appears ; Dissolve" my heart in thankfulness, And melt mine eyes to tears. 5 But drops of grief can ne'er repay The debt of love I owe ; Here, Lord, I give myself away, 'Tis all that I can do.
Page 24 - Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread Are big with mercy, and shall break In blessings on your head...
Page 89 - Come, Thou Fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing Thy grace; Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise.

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