Psalms, selected for the service of the Church, by J.L. Bicknell

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John Laurens Bicknell (the younger)
1822

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24 ÆäÀÌÁö - THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye ; My noon-day walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
94 ÆäÀÌÁö - COME, let us join our cheerful songs, With angels round the throne ; Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one. 2 " Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry, " To be exalted thus :" — " Worthy the Lamb," our lips reply,
23 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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.
25 ÆäÀÌÁö - Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread ; My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord, art with me still ; Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devious lonely wilds I stray.
35 ÆäÀÌÁö - O GOD, our help in ages past, our hope for years to come, our shelter from the stormy blast, and our eternal home...
23 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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.
22 ÆäÀÌÁö - 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...
95 ÆäÀÌÁö - From all that dwell below the skies, Let the Creator's praise arise ; Let the Redeemer's name be sung, Through every land, by every tongue. 2. Eternal are thy mercies, Lord ; Eternal truth attends thy word : Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore, Till suns shall rise and set no more.
83 ÆäÀÌÁö - ETERNAL Source of every joy ! Well may thy praise our lips employ, While in thy temple we appear, Whose goodness crowns the circling year.
65 ÆäÀÌÁö - WHEN all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise...

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