Isaac Watts

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.

Commemoration of Jack Winslow, Missionary, Evangelist, 1974 My God, how endless is Thy love! Thy gifts are every evening new, read more

Commemoration of Jack Winslow, Missionary, Evangelist, 1974 My God, how endless is Thy love! Thy gifts are every evening new, And morning mercies from above Gently distill like early dew. Thou spread'st the curtains of the night, Great guardian of my sleeping hours; Thy sov'reign word restores the light, And quickens all my drowsy powers. I yield my powers to Thy command, To Thee I consecrate my days; Perpetual blessings from Thine hand Demand perpetual songs of praise.

How fine has the day been! how bright was the sun,
How lovely and joyful the course that he read more

How fine has the day been! how bright was the sun,
How lovely and joyful the course that he run!
Though he rose in a mist when his race he begun,
And there followed some droppings of rain:
But now the fair traveller's come to the west,
His rays are all gold, and his beauties are best;
He paints the skies gay as he sinks to his rest,
And foretells a bright rising again.

But Thy good word informs my soul
How I may climb to heaven.

But Thy good word informs my soul
How I may climb to heaven.

A flower, when offered in the bud, is no vain sacrifice.

A flower, when offered in the bud, is no vain sacrifice.