The National Choir: Being a Collection of Anthems, Set Pieces, Duetts, Trios and Choruses, Adapted to the Purposes of Public Worship and the Use of Schools

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Moore & Wheet, 1834 - 198 من الصفحات

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الصفحة 83 - As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, And his fruit was sweet to my taste.
الصفحة 63 - BEFORE Jehovah's awful throne, Ye nations, bow with sacred joy : Know that the Lord is God alone; He can create, and He destroy.
الصفحة 26 - O come, let us worship and fall down, and kneel before the Lord our Maker. For he is the Lord our God, and we are the people of his pasture, and the sheep of his hand.
الصفحة 54 - Hark! they whisper; Angels say, Sister Spirit, come away. What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
الصفحة 84 - He brought me to the banqueting house, And his banner over me was love. Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples : For I am sick of love.
الصفحة 55 - The world recedes ; it disappears ! Heaven opens on my eyes ! my ears With sounds seraphic ring : Lend, lend your wings ! I mount ! I fly ! 0 Grave ! where is thy victory ? 0 Death! where is thy sting?
الصفحة 26 - In His hand are all the corners of the Earth; and the strength of the hills is His also.
الصفحة 137 - Along thy sunset skies, Their glories melt in shade ; And like the things we fondly prize, Seem lovelier as they fade. A deep and crimson streak Thy dying leaves disclose ; As, on Consumption's waning cheek, 'Mid ruin blooms the rose.
الصفحة 143 - COME, let us anew Our journey pursue — Roll round with the year, And never stand still till the Master appear ; His adorable will Let us gladly fulfil, And our talents improve By the patience of hope, and the labor of love.
الصفحة 138 - Thy scene each vision brings Of beauty in decay; Of fair and early faded things, Too exquisite to stay ;— Of joys that come no more ; Of flowers whose bloom is fled ; Of farewells wept upon the shore ; Of friends estranged or dead ; — Of all that now may seem, To Memory's tearful eye, The vanished beauty of a dream, O'er which we gaze and sigh.

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