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Text: | "Charity never faileth" |
Author: | Hart |
1 Faith in the bleeding Lamb,
O what a gift is this!
Hope of salvation in his name,
How comfortable ’tis!
2 [Knowledge of what is right,
How God is satisfied,
A foe received a favourite,
An alien made a child;
3 Blessings, my friends, like these,
Are very, very great;
But soon they every one must cease,
Nor are they now complete.
4 Faith will to bliss give place;
In sight we hope shall lose;
For who needs trust for things he has,
Or hope for what he views?
5 The little too that’s known,
Which, children-like, we boast,
Will fade, like glow-worms in the sun,
Or drops in ocean lost.]
6 But love shall still remain,
Its glories cannot cease,
No other change shall that sustain,
Save only to increase.
7 Of all that God bestows,
In earth or heaven above,
The best gift saint or angel knows,
Or e’er will know, is love.
8 [Love all defects supplies,
Makes great obstructions small;
’Tis prayer, ’tis praise, ’tis sacrifice,
’Tis holiness, ’tis all!]
9 Descend, celestial Dove,
With Jesus’ flock abide;
Give us that best of blessings, love,
Whate’er we want beside.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Faith in the bleeding Lamb |
Title: | "Charity never faileth" |
Author: | Hart |
Meter: | S. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1844 |