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Tlie Book of Praise.
A gentle stream of hope and love
To us shall ever flow ; It issues from His throne above,
It cheers His Church below.
When earth and hell against us came, He spake, and quell'd their powers ;
The Lord of hosts is still the same ; The God of grace is ours.
Henry Francis Lyte. 1834
There is a safe and secret place
Beneath the wings divine, Reserved for all the heirs of grace ;
O, be that refuge mine !
The least and feeblest there may bide
Uninjured and unawed ; While thousands fall on every side,
He rests secure in God.
The angels watch him on his way, And aid with friendly arm ;
And Satan, roaring for His prey, May hate, but cannot harm.
He feeds in pastures large and fair
Of love and truth divine : O child of God, O glory's heir,
How rich a lot is thine !