Hymns for infant minds, by the authors of Original poems, &c

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Página 81 - For a thousand years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is past, and as a watch in the night. Thou carriest them away as with a flood; they are as a sleep: in the morning they are like grass which groweth up. In the morning it flourisheth, and groweth up; in the evening it is cut down, and withereth.
Página 8 - Art Thou my Father? Let me be A meek obedient child to Thee, And try, in word and deed and thought, To serve and please Thee as I ought. 4 Art Thou my Father? I'll depend Upon the care of such a Friend, And only wish to do and be Whatever seemeth good to Thee.
Página 54 - Though the Lord be high, yet hath he respect unto the lowly: but the proud he knoweth afar off.
Página 49 - But months and years are passing by, And soon must all be gone ; For day by day, as minutes fly, Eternity comes on. Days, months, and years must have an end; Eternity has none : 'Twill always have as long to spend As when it first begun...
Página 10 - GOD is so good that he will hear Whenever children humbly pray : He always lends a gracious ear To what the youngest child can say.
Página 34 - He smiles in heaven ; he frowns to hell : He fills the air, the earth, the sea : I must within his presence dwell ; I cannot from his anger flee. Yet I may flee — he shows me where ; To Jesus Christ he bids me fly ; And while I seek for pardon there, There's only mercy in his eye.
Página 65 - LORD. I would own thy tender care. And all thy love to me : The food I eat, the clothes I wear, Are all bestowed by thee.
Página 88 - And does he never speak ? O yes ; for, in his Word, He bids me come and seek The God that Samuel heard : In almost every page I see The God of Samuel calls to me.
Página 47 - And now I recollect with pain The many times I grieved her sore : Oh ! if she would but come again, I think I'd vex her so no more. How I would watch her gentle eye ! 'Twould be my play to do her will ! And she should never have to sigh Again, for my behaving ill...
Página 42 - You loved me before I could tell Who it was that so tenderly smiled ; But now that I know it so well, I should be a dutiful child. I am sorry that ever I should Be naughty, and give you a pain ; I hope I shall learn to be good, And so never grieve you again.

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