Floating in the Arms of God

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The work which his goodness began, The arm of his strength will complete; His promise is Yea and Amen, And never was forfeited yet. Things future, nor things that are now, Nor all things below or above, Can make him his purpose forgo, Or sever my soul from his love. My name from the palms of his hands Eternity will not erase; Impressed on his heart it remains, In marks of indelible grace. Yes, I to the end shall endure, As sure as the earnest is given; More happy, but not more secure, The glorified spirits in heav'n. Thy gracious covenant, Lord, fulfil, Turn not away from us thy face; Establish thou Messiah's throne And let him reign within this place.

Am I a soldier of the Cross

Thy Zion thou hast chosen, Lord, And thou hast said, I love her well, This is my constant resting place, And here will I delight to dwell. I will abundantly provide For Zion's good, the Lord hath said; I will supply her daily need And satisfy her poor with bread. I sing of mercies that endure, For ever builded firm and sure, Of faithfulness that never dies, Established changeless in the skies.

Behold God's truth and grace displayed, For he has faithful cov'nant made, And he has sworn that David's Son Shall ever sit upon his throne. For him my mercy shall endure, My cov'nant made with him is sure; His throne and race I will maintain For ever, while the heavens remain. Blessed be the Lord for evermore, Whose promise stands from days of yore. His word is faithful now as then; Blessed be his Name, Amen, Amen. He formed the deeps unknown, He gave the seas their bound; The wat'ry worlds are all his own, And all the solid ground. Come, worship at his throne; Come, bow before the Lord: We are his works, and not our own; He formed us by his word.

Today attend his voice, Nor dare provoke his rod; Come, like the people of his choice, And own your gracious God. Th'unwearied sun, from day to day, Does his Creator's pow'r display, And publishes to every land The work of an almighty hand. Soon as the evening shades prevail, The moon takes up the wondrous tale, And nightly to the list'ning earth Repeats the story of her birth; Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though in solemn silence all Move round this dark terrestrial ball?

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What though nor real voice nor sound Amidst their radiant orbs be found? In reason's ear they all rejoice, And utter forth a glorious voice; For ever singing, as they shine, "The hand that made us is divine. The sun with royal splendor Goes forth to chant thy praise, And moonbeams soft and tender Their gentler anthem raise; Over every tribe and nation The music strange is poured, The song of all creation To thee, creation's Lord. All heaven on high rejoices To do its Maker's will, The stars with solemn voices Resound thy praises still; So let my whole behavior, Thoughts, words, and actions be, O Lord, my Strength, my Saviour, One ceaseless song to thee.

All his hosts, together praise him, Sun and moon and stars on high; Praise him, O ye heav'ns of heavens, And ye floods above the sky. Let them praises give Jehovah, For his name alone is high, And his glory is exalted, And his glory is exalted, And his glory is exalted, Far above the earth and sky. Let them praises give Jehovah, They were made at his command; Them for ever he established, His decree shall ever stand. From the earth, O praise Jehovah, All ye seas, ye monsters all, Fire and hail and snow and vapors, Stormy winds that hear his call.

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All ye fruitful trees and cedars, All ye hills and mountains high; Creeping things and beasts and cattle, Birds that in the heavens fly, Kings of earth, and all ye people, Princes great, earth's judges all; Praise his Name, young men and maidens, Aged men, and children small. 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. If I survey the ground I tread, Or gaze upon the sky. There's not a plant or flower below But makes thy glories known; And clouds arise, and tempests blow, By order from thy throne. Creatures as numerous as they be Are subject to thy care; There's not a place where we can flee, But God is present there.

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Infant lips thou dost ordain Wrath and vengeance to restrain; Weakest means fulfil thy will, Mighty enemies to still. Moon and stars in shining height Nightly tell their Maker's might; When thy wondrous heav'ns I scan, Then I know how weak is man. What is man that he should be Loved and visited by thee, Raised to an exalted height, Crowned with honor in thy sight? With dominion crowned he stands O'er the creatures of thy hands; All to him subjection yield In the sea and air and field.

Lord, our Lord, thy glorious Name All thy wondrous works proclaim; Thine the Name of matchless worth, Excellent in all the earth. Praise him, ye highest heav'ns, Praise him, ye clouds that roll, Created by his pow'r And under his control, Ye heavens that stand eternally, Established by his firm decree.

Ye creatures in the sea And creatures on the earth, Your mighty Maker praise And tell his matchless worth; Praise him, ye stormy winds that blow, Ye fire and hail, ye rain and snow. Ye hills and mountains, praise, Each tree and beast and bird; Ye kings and realms of earth, Now let your praise be heard; By high and low, by young and old, Be all his praise and glory told. By all let God be praised, For he alone is great; Above the earth and heav'n He reigns in glorious state; Praise him, ye saints, who know his grace And ever dwell before his face. This is my Father's world: I rest me in the thought Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas; His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father's world, The birds their carols raise, The morning light, the lily white, Declare their Maker's praise. This is my Father's world: He shines in all that's fair; In the rustling grass I hear him pass, He speaks to me everywhere. This is my Father's world, O let me ne'er forget That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.

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  7. This is my Father's world: The battle is not done; Jesus who died shall be satisfied, And earth and heav'n be one. He rides on the clouds, the wings of the storm, The lightning and wind his mission perform; The earth he has founded her station to keep, And wrapped as a vesture about her the deep. He waters the hills with rain from the skies, And plentiful grass and herbs he supplies, Supplying the cattle, and blessing man's toil With bread in abundance with wine and with oil.

    The trees which the Lord has planted are fed, And over the earth their branches are spread; They keep in their shelter the birds of the air, The life of each creature the Lord makes his care. Thy Spirit, O Lord, makes life to abound, The earth is renewed, and fruitful the ground; To God ascribe glory and wisdom and might, Let God in his creatures for ever delight. Rejoicing in God, my thought shall be sweet, While sinners depart in ruin complete; My soul, bless Jehovah, his Name be adored, Come, praise him, ye people, and worship the Lord. Thy majesty and greatness Are through all lands confessed, And joy on earth thou sendest Afar from east to west.

    To bless the earth thou sendest From thine abundant store The waters of the springtime, Enriching it once more. The seed by thee provided Is sown o'er hill and plain, And thou with gentle showers Dost bless the springing grain. The year with good thou crownest, The earth thy mercy fills, The wilderness is fruitful, And joyful are the hills; With corn the vales are covered, The flocks in pastures graze; All nature joins in singing A joyful song of praise.

    Flocks that whiten all the plain, Yellow sheaves of ripened grain, Clouds that drop their fatt'ning dews, Suns that temp'rate warmth diffuse; All that spring with bounteous hand Scatters o'er the smiling land; All that liberal autumn pours From her rich o'erflowing stores; These to thee, my God, we owe, Source whence all our blessings flow; And for these my soul shall raise Grateful vows and solemn praise. He sends his show'rs of blessing down To cheer the plains below; He makes the grass the mountains crown, And corn in valleys grow.

    His steady counsels change the face Of the declining year; He bids the sun cut short his race, And wintry days appear. His hoary frost, his fleecy snow, Descend and clothe the ground; The liquid streams forbear to flow, In icy fetters bound. He sends his word, and melts the snow; The fields no longer mourn; He calls the warmer gales to blow, And bids the spring return.

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    The changing wind, the flying cloud, Obey his mighty word; With songs and honors sounding loud Praise ye the sovereign Lord. Our spirits faint; our sins prevail; Leave not our trembling hearts to fail: O thou that hearest prayer, descend, And still be found the sinner's friend. How blest thy saints! Saviour of all in earth and sea, How happy they who rest in thee! Thy hand sets fast the mighty hills, Thy voice the troubled ocean stills; Evening and morning hymn thy praise, And earth thy bounty wide displays.

    The year is with thy goodness crowned; Thy clouds drop wealth the world around; Through thee the deserts laugh and sing, And nature smiles, and owns her King. Lord, on our souls thine influence pour; The moral waste within restore: O let thy love our springtide be, And make us all bear fruit to thee.

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    My faith burns low, my hope burns low; Only my heart's desire cries out in me By the deep thunder of its want and woe, Cries out to thee. Lord, thou art Life, though I be dead; Love's fire thou art, however cold I be: Nor heav'n have I, nor place to lay my head, Nor home, but thee. Thou art the Truth: thy Word alone True wisdom can impart; Thou only canst inform the mind, And purify the heart.

    Thou art the Life: the rending tomb Proclaims thy conquering arm, And those who put their trust in thee Nor death nor hell shall harm. Thou art our holy Lord, The all-subduing Word, Healer of strife: Thou didst thyself abase, That from sin's deep disgrace Thou mightest save our race, And give us life. Thou art the Great High Priest, Thou hast prepared the feast Of heavenly love: While in our mortal pain, None calls on thee in vain: Help thou dost not disdain, Help from above. So now and till we die, Sound we thy praises high, And joyful sing: Infants, and the glad throng Who to thy church belong, Unite to swell the song To Christ our King.

    O Bringer of salvation, Who wondrously hast wrought, Thyself the revelation Of love beyond our thought; We worship thee, we bless thee, To thee alone we sing; We praise thee, and confess thee Our gracious Lord and King. In thee all fulness dwelleth, All grace and power divine: The glory that excelleth, O Son of God, is thine; We worship thee, we bless thee, To thee alone we sing; We praise thee, and confess thee Our glorious Lord and King.

    O grant the consummation Of this our song above In endless adoration, And everlasting love; Then shall we praise and bless thee Where perfect praises ring, And evermore confess thee Our Saviour and our King. Thy people long to greet thee, My hope, my heart's delight! O, kindle, Lord, most holy, Thy lamp within my breast To do in spirit lowly All that may please thee best. Love caused thine incarnation, Love brought thee down to me; Thy thirst for my salvation Procured my liberty. O love beyond all telling, That led thee to embrace, In love all love excelling, Our lost and fallen race!

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    Rejoice, then, ye sad-hearted, Who sit in deepest gloom, Who mourn o'er joys departed And tremble at your doom. Despair not, he is near you, Yea, standing at the door, Who best can help and cheer you And bids you weep no more. Sin's debt, that fearful burden, Let not your soul distress; Your guilt the Lord will pardon And cover by his grace. He comes, for men procuring The peace of sin forgiv'n, For all God's sons securing Their heritage in heav'n.

    Creator of the world art thou, Its Saviour and its King. How vast the mercy and the love Which laid our sins on thee, And led thee to a cruel death, To set thy people free. But now the bands of death are burst, The ransom has been paid; And thou art on thy Father's throne, In glorious robes arrayed.

    O Christ, be thou our lasting joy, Our ever great reward! Our only glory may it be To glory in the Lord. For us baptized, for us he bore His holy fast, and hungered sore, For us temptations sharp he knew, For us the tempter overthrew. For us to wicked men betrayed, Scourged, mocked, in crown of thorns arrayed; For us he bore the cross's death, For us at length gave up his breath.

    Floating in the Arms of God
    Floating in the Arms of God
    Floating in the Arms of God
    Floating in the Arms of God
    Floating in the Arms of God
    Floating in the Arms of God
    Floating in the Arms of God
    Floating in the Arms of God

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