Hymns and Anthems

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Charles Fox, 1841 - 100 pages

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Page lvi - IN the cross of Christ I glory, Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; All the light of sacred story Gathers round its head sublime.
Page lxxi - How happy is he born and taught That serveth not another's will ; Whose armour is his honest thought And simple truth his utmost skill...
Page ix - 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 lx - Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream! — For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem. Life is real! Life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
Page xxxix - God before her moved, An awful guide, in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonished lands The cloudy pillar glided slow ; By night, Arabia's crimsoned sands Returned the fiery column's glow.
Page lxxxv - E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me ; Still all my song shall be, — Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee ! 2 Though, like the wanderer, The sun gone down, Darkness be over me, My rest a stone ; Yet in my dreams I'd be Nearer, my God, to Thee, — Nearer to Thee...
Page cxxx - They sin who tell us Love can die. With life all other passions fly, All others are but vanity. In Heaven Ambition cannot dwell, Nor Avarice in the vaults of Hell ; Earthly these passions of the Earth, They perish where they have their birth ; But Love is indestructible. Its holy flame for ever burneth, From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth...
Page vii - LET us, with a gladsome mind, Praise the Lord, for he is kind ; For his mercies aye endure, Ever faithful, ever sure.
Page xlvi - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than Heaven pursue. What blessings Thy free bounty gives, Let me not cast away; For God is paid when man receives, T
Page lxxxv - Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee! E'en though it be a cross That raiseth me; Still all my song shall be. Nearer, my God, to Thee, Nearer to Thee!

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