The Psalms of David, in Metre: With Annotations, Explaining the Sense, and Animating the Devotion

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A. Allardice and Company, 1825 - 478 strán (strany)
 

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Strana 412 - To you, in David's town, this day Is born, of David's line, The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord ; And this shall be the sign : 4 " The heavenly babe you there shall find To human view displayed, All meanly wrapped in swathing bands, And in a manger laid.
Strana 164 - Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that, though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor, that we through his poverty might be rich.
Strana 104 - Now the Lord is that Spirit : and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, as by the Spirit of the Lord.
Strana 241 - 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.
Strana 443 - Through hidden dangers, toils, and deaths, It gently clear'd my way, And through the pleasing snares of vice, More to be fear'd than they.
Strana 444 - 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.
Strana 445 - WHEN rising from the bed of death, O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear, I see my Maker face to face ; O how shall I appear ! 2 If yet, while pardon may be found, And mercy may be sought, My heart with inward horror shrinks, And trembles at the thought: 3...
Strana 444 - What though, in solemn silence, all Move round the dark terrestrial ball ; What though no real voice nor sound Amid their radiant orbs be found; In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice, For ever singing as they shine, The hand that made us is divine.
Strana 435 - And called him to the sky, He gave our souls a lively hope That they should never die.
Strana 445 - Then see the sorrows of my heart, Ere yet it be too late ; And hear my Saviour's dying groans, To give those sorrows weight. VI. For never shall my soul despair Her pardon to procure, Who knows thine only Son has died To make her pardon sure.

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