|
|
Now by the bowels of my God,
His sharp distress, his sore complaints,
By his last groans, his dying blood,
I charge my soul to love the saints.
Clamor, and wrath, and war, begone,
Envy and spite, for ever cease;
Let bitter words no more be known
Amongst the saints, the sons of peace.
The Spirit, like a peaceful dove,
Flies from the realms of noise and strife:
Why should we vex and grieve his love
Who seals our souls to heav'nly life?
Tender and kind be all our thoughts,
Through all our lives let mercy run;
So God forgives our num'rous faults,
For the dear sake of Christ his Son.
|
marker 99
|
LYRICS
Meter:
|
8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
|
Writer(s):
|
|
Trans/Adapted:
|
|
Dates:
|
|
Bible Refs:
|
Eph 4:30; Phil 2:2;
|
LIST OF LYRIC SOURCES
Hymn/Song Book
|
Year
|
Song #
|
| | # 130 |
MUSIC
Name:
|
WARE
|
Meter:
|
8 8 8 8 (L.M.)
|
Writer(s):
|
|
Dates:
|
1838
|
LIST OF MUSIC SOURCES
Hymn/Song Book
|
Song #
|
Key
|
| # 95 | Bb | | # 471 | Bb |
echo ' | ';
|