Divine and moral songs for children

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W. Darton, 1830 - 72 pages

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Kasutaja arvustus  - MyopicBookworm - LibraryThing

Watts's legacy was described in a recent Church Times article as mostly pernicious, and I am inclined to agree. Some are amusing, but most are quite horrid, threatening children with damnation for the ... Read full review

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Page 61 - What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than Hell to shun, That, more than Heaven pursue.
Page 43 - As the door on its hinges, so he on his bed, Turns his sides, and his shoulders, and his heavy head. "A little more sleep, and a little more slumber...
Page 29 - In works of labour or of skill I would be busy too: For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play Let my first years be past, That I may give for every day Some good account at last.
Page 8 - I sing the goodness of the Lord, That filled the earth with food ; He formed the creatures with His word, And then pronounced them good.
Page 58 - Sleep, my babe; thy food and raiment, House and home, thy friends provide; All without thy care or payment: All thy wants are well supplied. How much better thou'rt attended Than the Son of God could be, When from heaven He descended And became a child like thee! Soft and easy is thy cradle: Coarse and hard thy Saviour lay, When His birthplace was a stable And His softest bed was hay.
Page 66 - Heaven has brought me to the state you see; And your condition may be soon like mine, The Child of Sorrow and of Misery...
Page 60 - Mayst thou live to know and fear Him, Trust and love Him all thy days; Then go dwell forever near Him, See His face, and sing His praise!
Page 63 - At aught thy wisdom has denied, •Or aught thy goodness lent. Teach me to feel another's woe, To hide the fault I see ; That mercy I to others show, That mercy show to me.
Page 23 - There is a dreadful hell, And everlasting pains ; There sinners must with devils dwell, In darkness, fire, and chains. Can such a wretch as I Escape this cursed end ? And may I hope, whene'er I die, I shall to heaven ascend ? Then I for grace will pray, While I have life and breath ; Lest I should be cut off to-day, And sent t
Page 67 - Pity the sorrows of a poor old man ! Whose trembling limbs have borne him to your door, Whose days are dwindled to the shortest span, Oh ! give relief, and Heaven will bless your store.

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