Psalms and Hymns Adapted to Social, Private, and Public Worship in the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America

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Page 161 - THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, •And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye ; My noonday walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
Page 235 - How sweet the name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear.
Page 145 - A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening gone ; Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun. 5 Time, like an ever-rolling stream, Bears all its sons away ; They fly forgotten, as a dream Dies at the opening day...
Page 169 - COME, let us join our cheerful songs, With angels round the throne ; Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one. 2 "Worthy the Lamb that died"— they cry, "To be exalted thus :"— "Worthy the Lamb"— our lips reply,
Page 64 - Dear dying Lamb ! thy precious blood Shall never lose its power, Till all the ransomed church of God Be saved to sin no more.
Page 189 - COME, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, With all Thy quickening powers, Kindle a flame of sacred love In these cold hearts of ours. 2 Look how we grovel here below, Fond of these trifling toys : Our souls can neither fly nor go To reach eternal joys.
Page 18 - The spacious firmament on high, With all the blue ethereal sky, And spangled heavens, a shining frame, Their great original proclaim. The unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's power display, And publishes to every land The work of an Almighty hand. 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...
Page 261 - The Lord ye know is God indeed, Without our aid he did us make ; We are his flock, he doth us feed, And for his sheep, he doth us take.
Page 23 - 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 250 - 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.

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