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Lyra Apostolica. 1st Am., from the 5th English ed.

Publisher: D. Appleton & Co. / G.S. Appleton, New York, N.Y. ; Philadelphia, Penn., 1844
Denomination: Episcopal Church
Language: English
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First Lines
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d1And dare I say, Welcome to me
d2And dare ye deem God's ire must cease
d3And shrink ye still
d4And they who grudge the Omnipotent
d5And where is now the Tishbite
d6And wouldst thou reach, rash scholar mine
d7Are the gates sure? is every bolt made fast?
d8Are these the tracks of some unearthly friend
d9Away, or ere the Lord break forth
d10Banished the house of sacred rest
d11Beautiful flowers round Wisdom's secret well
d12Behold your armory, sword and lightning shaft
d13Bid thou thy time! Watch with meek eyes the race of pride
d14But faith is cold, and willful men are strong
d15But louder yet the heavens shall ring
d16But sadder strains, and direr bodings dark
d17By your Lord's creative breath
d18Cease, stranger, cease those piercing notes
d19Christ bade his followers take the sword
d20Christ only, of God's messengers to man
d21Christ's church was holiest in her youthful days
d22Come, twinkle in my lonely room
d23Dear sainted friends, I call not you
d24Deep in his meditative bower
d25Do not their souls, who 'neath the altar wait
d26Dread glimpses, even in gospel times, have been
d27Dull thunders moan around the temple rock
d28Each morn and eve, the golden keys
d29Each trial has its weight
d30Ere yet I left home's youthful shrine
d31Faint not, and fret not, for threatened woe
d32Far sadder musing on the traveller falls
d33Fear not, for he hath sworn
d34France, I will think of thee
d35Full many an eve, and many a morn
d36Give any boon for peace
d37God of our Isr'l, by our favored sires
d38Hail, gladdening Light, of his pure glory poured
d39Hail, glorious lights, kindled at God's own urn
d40He spake, he died and rose again
d41Heard ye the unerring Judge is at the door
d42Hid are the saints of God
d43High on the stately wall The spear of Arvad hung
d44How can I keep my Christmas feast
d45How didst thou start, thou holy baptist
d46How long endure this priestly scorn
d47How long, O Lord of grace, Must languish
d48How shall a child of God fulfil
d49I bow at Jesus' name
d50I dreamed that, with a passionate complaint
d51I have been honored and obeyed
d52I sat beneath an olive's branches grey
d53I saw thee once, and nought discerned
d54I thought to meet no more
d55If e'er I fall beneath thy rod
d56If waiting by the time-crowned halls
d57In childhood, when with eager eyes
d58Into God's word as in a palace fair
d59Is he not near, look up and see
d60Is there no sound about our altars heard
d61Latest born of Jesse's race
d62Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom
d63Let others sing thy heathen praise
d64Lord, I have fasted, I have prayed
d65Lord, in this dust thy sovereign voice
d66Man is permitted much to scan and learn
d67Many the guileless years the patriarch spent
d68Methought I saw a face divinely fair
d69Mid Balak's magic fires
d70Mortal, if e'er thy spirits faint
d71Moses, the patriot fierce
d72Mother, and hast thou left thy child With winds unpitying
d73My Father's hope, my childhood's dream
d74My home is now a thousand mile away
d75My smile is bright, my glance is free
d76No joy of mine to invite the thunder down
d77Nor wants there seraph warnings, morn and eve
d78Now is the autumn of the tree of life
d79O aged saint, far off I heard the praises
d80O comrade bold of toil and pain
d81O Father, list a sinner's call
d82O heart of fire, misjudged by wilful man
d83O Lord, and Christ, thy churches of the south
d84O Lord, I hear, but can it be
d85O Lord, when sin's close marshalled line
d86O miserable power to dreams allowed
d87O mother church of Rome, why has thy heart Beat so untuly towards thy norythern child
d88O piteous race, fearful to look upon
d89O prophet, tell me not of peace
d90O purest semblance of the Eternal Son
d91O rail not at our brethren of the north
d92O say not thou art left of God
d93O specious sin and Satan's subtle snare
d94O surely Scorner is his name
d95O sweetly timed, as e'er was gentle hand
d96O that thy creed were sound
d97Once as I brooded o'er my guilty state
d98Once cast with men of language strange
d99One only may to life
d100Peace loving man, of humble heart and true

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