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The Lord is my Shepherd; he makes me repose
The Lord is the fountain of goodness and love
The morning light is breaking
The pearl that worldlings covet
The praying spirit breathe!
The Prince of Salvation in triumph is riding
The sound of salvation is echo'd afar
Hallelujah to the Lamb, who hath purchased our pardon
The world hath one sweet resting-place
The world their fancied pearl may crave
There is a fountain fill'd with blood
This book is all that's left me now!
This may be thy latest call
This, this is the God we adore
Why sinks my soul desponding?
With joy we meditate the grace
Ye dying sons of men
Ye ransom'd sinners, hear
Ye wretched, starving poor
Yes, my native land! I love thee
Zion, arise and shine
Zion, dreary
Did Christ o'er sinners weep?
O could I speak the matchless worth!
O thou in whose presence my soul takes delight
Be it my only wisdom here
Be the little ones instructed
Begone, unbelief! my Saviour is near
Beneath our feet, and o'er our head
Bleeding hearts, defiled by sin
Bless'd be the tie that binds
Blow ye the trumpet, blow
Brightest and best of the sons of the morning
By cool Siloam's shady rill
By faith I see my Saviour dying
Show pity Lord; O Lord, forgive!
There is a happy land
There is a holier clime than ours
There is a holy city
There is a home, a home fadeless and bright
O, that will be joyful!
There is a place of waveless rest
There is a region lovelier far
There seems a voice in every gale
They have gone to the land where the patriarchs rest
A charge to keep I have
A fountain of life and of grace
A poor, wayfaring man of grief
A weak and weary dove, with drooping wing
Acquaint thyself quickly, O sinner, with God

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Hymnal, Number:mshb1856

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