Isaac Watts

CHRISTMAS DAY The King of glory sends his Son, To make his entrance on this earth; Behold the midnight bright read more

CHRISTMAS DAY The King of glory sends his Son, To make his entrance on this earth; Behold the midnight bright as noon, And heav'nly hosts declare his birth! About the young Redeemer's head, What wonders, and what glories meet! An unknown star arose, and led The eastern sages to his feet. Simeon and Anna both conspire The infant Saviour to proclaim; Inward they felt the sacred fire, And bless'd the babe, and own'd his name. Let pagan hordes blaspheme aloud, And treat the holy child with scorn; Our souls adore th' eternal God Who condescended to be born.

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 doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
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How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower.

But, children, you should never let
Such angry passions rise;
Your little hands were never made
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But, children, you should never let
Such angry passions rise;
Your little hands were never made
To tear each other's eyes.
- Isaac Watts,

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.

Hark! from the tombs a doleful sound.