Hymns and Poems for the Sick and Suffering

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Thomas Vincent Fosbery
Rivingtons, 1857 - 400 pages

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Page 158 - Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, And lighten with celestial fire. Thou the anointing Spirit art, Who dost thy sevenfold gifts impart. Thy blessed unction from above Is comfort, life, and fire of love.
Page 203 - SOMETIMES a light surprises The Christian while he sings; It is the Lord who rises With healing in his wings; When comforts are declining, He grants the soul again, A season of clear shining, To cheer it after rain.
Page 263 - What would we give to our beloved ? The hero's heart to be unmoved, The poet's star-tuned harp to sweep, The patriot's voice to teach and rouse, The monarch's crown to light the brows,— He giveth his beloved sleep...
Page 213 - Is there a thing beneath the sun That strives with Thee my heart to share ? Ah, tear it thence, and reign alone, The Lord of every motion there ! Then shall my heart from earth be free, When it hath found repose in Thee.
Page 18 - All may of Thee partake : Nothing can be so mean, Which with his tincture (for Thy sake) Will not grow bright and clean. A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine : Who sweeps a room, as for Thy laws, Makes that and th
Page 224 - And now in age I bud again, After so many deaths I live and write ; I once more smell the dew and rain, And relish versing : O my only Light ! — It cannot be That I am he On whom Thy tempests fell all night.
Page 318 - I ask Thee for the daily strength To none that ask denied, And a mind to blend with outward life, While keeping at Thy side ; Content to fill a little space, If Thou be glorified.
Page 23 - When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee: when thou walkest through the fire, thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame kindle upon thee. For I am the Lord thy God, the Holy One of Israel, thy Saviour: I gave Egypt for thy ransom, Ethiopia and Seba for thee.
Page 14 - Have you no words ? Ah ! think again, Words flow apace when you complain, And fill your fellow-creature's ear With the sad tale of all your care. Were half the breath thus vainly spent To Heaven in supplication sent, Your cheerful song would oftener be, " Hear what the Lord has done for me.
Page 100 - Tis my happiness below Not to live without the cross, But the Saviour's power to know, Sanctifying every loss. Trials must and will befall ; But with humble faith to see Love inscribed upon them all — This is happiness to me.

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