Sacred songs & solos nos. 1 and 2 combined. Compiled and sung by I.D. Sankey

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19 psl. - Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to Thy Cross I cling ; Naked, come to Thee for dress ; Helpless, look to Thee for grace ; Foul, I to the Fountain fly : Wash me, Saviour, or I die.
18 psl. - GUIDE me, O Thou Great Jehovah, Pilgrim through this barren land ; I am weak, but Thou art mighty ; Hold me with Thy powerful hand ; Bread of Heaven ! Feed me till I want no more.
20 psl. - Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past ; Safe into the haven guide ; Oh, receive my soul at last ! 2 Other refuge have I none ; Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; Leave, ah ! leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me.
16 psl. - WEET hour of prayer ! sweet hour i -3 of prayer ! That calls me from a world of care, And bids me at my Father's throne Make all my wants and wishes known : In seasons of distress and grief, My soul has often found relief, And oft escaped the tempter's snare, By thy return, sweet hour of prayer.
66 psl. - People and realms, of every tongue, Dwell on His love with sweetest song ; And infant voices shall proclaim Their early blessings on His name.
24 psl. - BLEST be the tie that binds Our hearts in Christian love ; The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above. 2 Before our Father's throne We pour our ardent prayers ; Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one. Our comforts and our cares. 3 We share our mutual woes, Our mutual burdens bear ; And often for each other flows The sympathizing tear.
77 psl. - JESUS, I my cross have taken, All to leave, and follow thee ; Naked, poor, despised, forsaken, Thou, from hence, my all shalt be. Perish every fond ambition, All I've sought, or hoped, or known; Yet how rich is my condition ! God and heaven are still my own.
44 psl. - MY soul, be on thy guard, Ten thousand foes arise; The hosts of sin are pressing hard To draw thee from the skies. 2 Oh watch, and fight, and pray ; The battle ne'er give o'er; Renew it boldly every day, And help divine implore.
25 psl. - The Lord, ye know, is God indeed ; Without our aid He did us make : We are His flock, He doth us feed, And for His sheep He doth us take.
40 psl. - Let not conscience make you linger, Nor of fitness fondly dream, All the fitness He requireth Is to feel your need of Him: This He gives you, Tis the Spirit's rising beam.

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