Hymn - "How Can I Keep From Singing?"

Nothing like singing the old Hymns: This site has a lot of helpful hints for those of you that are musically inclined. I was almost 25 years old before I learned to sing
Bill
------------
http://www.music-folk-play-hymns.com/How-Can-I-Keep-From-Singing.html

 was written in 1860 by Robert Lowry,  a Baptist minister who pastored in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania. Lowry wrote the lyrics to such well-known hymns as "Shall We Gather at the River?" "Christ Arose," and "Nothing But the Blood," as well the sentimental song "Where Is My Boy Tonight?"
How Can I Keep From Singing?
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation
I hear the sweet though far off hymn
That hails a new creation:
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?
What though my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Savior liveth;
What though the darkness gather round!
Songs in the night He giveth:
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of Heav’n and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
I lift mine eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smoothes
Since first I learned to love it:
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing:
All things are mine since I am His—
How can I keep from singing?

Sheet Music

Guitar Tab

Mandolin Tab

Ukulele Tab

Home

• Home
• Sheet Music
• Hymn Videos
• You Do It!
• Your Comments
• Files Not Visable?
• Play Autoharp!
• Banjo Tab
• Guitar Tab
• Mandolin Tab
• Ukulele Tab
• Baritone Ukulele Tab
• Thanksgiving Day
• Christmas Songs
• Contact us!
• Subscribe
• Links
• Privacy Policy
• Disclaimer

Good deals on Music, Instruments, and more from Amazon

© Copyright 2011-2015 by Music-Folk-Play-Hymns.com

Auguries of Innocence

Auguries of Innocence

To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all heaven in a rage.

A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons
Shudders hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his master's gate
Predicts the ruin of the state.

A horse misused upon the road
Calls to heaven for human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted hare
A fibre from the brain does tear.

A skylark wounded in the wing,
A cherubim does cease to sing.
The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight
Does the rising sun affright.

Every wolf's and lion's howl
Raises from hell a human soul.

The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,
Keeps the human soul from care.
The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,
And yet forgives the butcher's knife.

The bat that flits at close of eve
Has left the brain that won't believe.
The owl that calls upon the night
Speaks the unbeliever's fright.

He who shall hurt the little wren
Shall never be belov'd by men.
He who the ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by woman lov'd.

The wanton boy that kills the fly
Shall feel the spider's enmity.
He who torments the chafer's sprite
Weaves a bower in endless night.

The caterpillar on the leaf
Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
For the last judgement draweth nigh.

He who shall train the horse to war
Shall never pass the polar bar.
The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.

The gnat that sings his summer's song
Poison gets from slander's tongue.
The poison of the snake and newt
Is the sweat of envy's foot.

The poison of the honey bee
Is the artist's jealousy.

The prince's robes and beggar's rags
Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the lies you can invent.

It is right it should be so;
Man was made for joy and woe;
And when this we rightly know,
Thro' the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,
A clothing for the soul divine.
Under every grief and pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.

The babe is more than swaddling bands;
Every farmer understands.
Every tear from every eye
Becomes a babe in eternity;

This is caught by females bright,
And return'd to its own delight.
The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,
Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.

The babe that weeps the rod beneath
Writes revenge in realms of death.
The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,
Does to rags the heavens tear.

The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,
Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
The poor man's farthing is worth more
Than all the gold on Afric's shore.

One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands
Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole nation sell and buy.

He who mocks the infant's faith
Shall be mock'd in age and death.
He who shall teach the child to doubt
The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

He who respects the infant's faith
Triumphs over hell and death.
The child's toys and the old man's reasons
Are the fruits of the two seasons.

The questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to reply.
He who replies to words of doubt
Doth put the light of knowledge out.

The strongest poison ever known
Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
Nought can deform the human race
Like to the armour's iron brace.

When gold and gems adorn the plow,
To peaceful arts shall envy bow.
A riddle, or the cricket's cry,
Is to doubt a fit reply.

The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
Make lame philosophy to smile.
He who doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you please.

If the sun and moon should doubt,
They'd immediately go out.
To be in a passion you good may do,
But no good if a passion is in you.

The whore and gambler, by the state
Licensed, build that nation's fate.
The harlot's cry from street to street
Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.

The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
Dance before dead England's hearse.

Every night and every morn
Some to misery are born,
Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.

We are led to believe a lie
When we see not thro' the eye,
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.

God appears, and God is light,
To those poor souls who dwell in night;
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.

by William Blake

EQUIPMENT by Edgar A. Guest

EQUIPMENT
by Edgar A. Guest
Figure it out for yourself, my lad,
You've all that the greatest of men have had,
Two arms, two hands, two legs, two eyes
And a brain to use if you would be wise.
With this equipment they all began,
So start for the top and say, "I can."
Look them over, the wise and great
They take their food from a common plate,
And similar knives and forks they use,
With similar laces they tie their shoes.
The world considers them brave and smart,
But you've all they had when they made their start.
You can triumph and come to skill,
You can be great if you only will.
You're well equipped for what fight you choose,
You have legs and arms and a brain to use,
And the man who has risen great deeds to do
Began his life with no more than you.
You are the handicap you must face,
You are the one who must choose your place,
You must say where you want to go,
How much you will study the truth to know.
God has equipped you for life, but He
Lets you decide what you want to be.
Courage must come from the soul within,
The man must furnish the will to win.
So figure it out for yourself, my lad.
You were born with all that the great have had,
With your equipment they all began,
Get hold of yourself and say: "I can."

WHAT WILL YOU BE FED?

WHAT WILL YOU BE FED?
Gentlemen, before you wed, Ascertain how you'll be fed,
Delve into every pan and pot, That your bride-to-be has got.
Though her kisses always please, What about her recipes?
Though her glamor makes you sigh, Can she bake an apple pie?
Now, before it is too late, Learn your gastronomic fate.
Do not trust your burning ardor, Till you've snooped around her larder.
More than once has sex appeal, Died with that initial meal.

Stumbling-Block or Stepping-Stone

Stumbling-Block or Stepping-Stone
       Isn't it strange that princes and kings
       And clowns that caper in sawdust rings
       And common folks like you and me
          Are builders of eternity?
       To each is given a bag of tools, --
       A shapeless mass and a book of rules;
       And each must make, ere life is flown,
       A stumbling-block or a stepping-stone.
                R. L. Sharpe  "Verses I like" selected by Major Edward Bowes,

I was shocked, confused, bewildered

I was shocked, confused, bewildered
As I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
Nor the lights or its decor.

But it was the folks in Heaven
Who made me sputter and gasp--
The thieves, the liars, the sinners,
The alcoholics and the trash.

There stood the kid from seventh grade
Who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbour
Who never said anything nice.

Bob, who I always thought
Was rotting away in hell,
Was sitting pretty on cloud nine,
Looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus, 'What's the deal?
I would love to hear Your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here?
God must've made a mistake.

'And why is everyone so quiet,
So sombre - give me a clue.'
'Hush, child,' He said,
'they're all in shock.
No one thought they'd be seeing you.'

JUDGE NOT!!

Remember...Just going to church doesn't make you a
Christian any more than standing in your garage makes you a car.

Every saint has a PAST...
Every sinner has a FUTURE!
Now it's your turn... Share this poem.
Life without God is like an unsharpened pencil...
It has no point!

DADDY HAD A LITTLE BOY

DADDY HAD A LITTLE BOY

Daddy had a little boy,his soul was white as snow,
He never went to Sunday School, cause Daddy wouldn't go!

He never heard the Word of God that,thrills the childish mind--
While other children went to class, this child was left behind.

As he grew from babe to youth, Dad saw to his dismay;
 a soul that once was snowy white become a dingy gray.

Dad even started back to church and Bible study, too,
 He begged his preacher,"Isn't there something you can do?"

The preacher tried and tried and said, "We're just too far behind;
 I tried to tell you years ago, but you would pay no mind.

And so another soul was lost, that once was white as snow.
 Sunday school would have helped, but Daddy wouldn't go!

Author Unknown

THE ETERNAL WILL

THE ETERNAL WILL.
‘‘ To war the armored nations march,
With echoing tread and thud of drums;
But under heaven’s triumphant arch,
A king unseen in conquest comes.
A thousand wills are crossed in war,
A thousand victories lost and won.
They alter not His changeless law,
‘God’s will is destined to be done.’
“ To that one ‘will ’ creation turns
Her myriad gaze, in wonder dumb.
No flowers that blow, no sun that burns,
His secret tells in light or bloom.
But righteous law at last shall prove,
‘To Him was every battle won.’
Creation’s travail brought forth Love.’
‘God’s will is destined to be done.’”
“ The lot is cast into the lap ; but the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord.” (Bible.) “‘God’s will is destined to be done” How very true this is. “ Be not deceived; God is not mocked; for whatsoever
a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” We pass this way but once. Let us be up and doing. God help US

“ Life with trials hard may press me;

“ Life with trials hard may press me;
 ’Twill but drive me to Thy breast.
“The cross that He gave ‘may be heavy,
 But it ne’er outweighs His grace;
The storm that I feared may surround me,
But it ne’er excludes-His face.
“The thorns in my path are not sharper
 Than composed His crown for me,
 The cup that I drink not more bitter
Than He drank in Gethsemane.

    Chorus :
“The cross is not greater than His grace,
The storm can not hide His blessed face; I am satisfied to know, That, with Jesus here below,
I can conquer ev’ry foe with His grace.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ukLn0I6SGg

" When you feel weakest, dangers surround,

" When you feel weakest, dangers surround,
Subtle temptations, troubles abound;
Nothing seems hopeful, nothing seems glad,
All is despairing, oftentimes sad.
“If all were easy, if all were bright,
Where would the cross be, where would the fight?
But in the hardness God gives to you
Chances of proving that you are true.
‘‘ God is your wisdom; God is your might;
God ever near you, guiding you right.
He understands you ; knows all your need;
Trusting in Him, you’ll surely succeed.
“ Let us press on, then; never despair :
Live above feeling ; victory’s there.
Jesus can keep us so near to Him
That never more our faith shall grow dim.

Chorus:
“ Keep 011 believing, Jesus is near,
Keep on believing, there’s nothing to fear.
Keep on believing, this is the way.
Faith is the night as well as the day.”

You are who you are for a reason.

 

 A poem by Russell Kelfer

You are who you are for a reason.
You're part of an intricate plan.
You're a precious and unique design,
Called God's special woman or man.

You look like you look for a reason.
Our God made no mistake.
HE knit you together within the womb,
You're just what HE wanted to make.

The parents you had were the ones HE chose,
And no matter how you may feel,
They were custom-designed with God's plan in mind.
And they bear the Master's seal.

No, that trauma you faced was not easy.
And God wept that it hurt you so;
But it was allowed to shape your heart
So that into HIS likeness you'd grow;

You are who you are for a reason,
You've been formed by the Master's rod.
You are who you are, beloved,
Because . . . . . there is a God.

Gently Think and Gently Speak

http://www.hymnary.org/text/gently_think_and_gently_speak

What Christ Is To Us

What Christ Is To Us

The Shield from every dart;
The Balm for every smart;
The Sharer of each load;
Companion on the road.

The Door into the fold;
The Anchor that will hold;
The Shepherd of the sheep;
The Guardian of my sleep.

The Friend with Whom I talk;
The Way by which I walk;
The Light to show the way;
The Strength for every day.

The Source of my delight;
The Song to cheer the night;
The Thought that fills my mind;
The Best of All to find—is Jesus!
—Anonymous

Are you bearing reproach for your Saviour?

Are you bearing reproach for your Saviour?
   Are you gathered alone to His name?
Have you taken His place of rejection?
   Are you sharing His suffering and shame?

His Name, though despised and rejected,
   Is a Name that we honour and love,
For JESUS, disowned by man's hatred,
   Is highly exalted above.

The apostles rejoiced and were happy,
   When suffering shame for His Name,
They counted it joy to be worthy
   To share in His suffering and shame.

And Moses, by faith, forsook Egypt,
   Refusing its treasures and fame,
Chose rather to suffer affliction
   And bear the reproach of His Name.

If ye be reproached for your Saviour,
   The Scripture says "Happy are ye,"
The Spirit of God and of glory
   Is resting in blessing on thee.

O think of the anguish HE suffered,
   These words of His own lips did impart;
"Mine enemies daily reproach Me,"—
   "Reproach, it hath broken My heart!"

Dread not the reproach that men offer,
   Fear not their revilings and shame,
For Jesus is with you to comfort,
   He knows, for He's suffered the same.

So, if His reproach you are feeling,
   When following Jesus as Lord,
The path will grow sweeter and brighter,
   And bring an eternal reward.
             —Lois Beckwith

Fear ye not the reproach of men, neither be ye afraid of their revilings. Isa. 51:7

I, even I, am He that comforteth you.  Isa. 51:12

Moment by Moment

Moment by Moment

Never a trial that He is not there;
Never a burden that He doth not bear;
Never a sorrow that He doth not share,
Moment by moment I'm under His care.

Never a heartache, and never a groan,
Never a tear-drop, and never a moan,
Never a danger but there, on the throne,
Moment by moment, He thinks of His own.

Never a weakness that He doth not feel;
Never a sickness that He cannot heal,
Moment by moment, in woe or in weal,
Jesus, my Saviour, abides with me still.
—Daniel W. Whittle

O! for the peace of a perfect trust,

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on Thee. Isa. 26:3

O! for the peace of a perfect trust,
   My loving God, in Thee;
Unwavering faith that never doubts
   Thou choosiest best for me.

Best, though my plans be all upset;
   Best though my way be rough;
Best, though my earthly store be scant;
   In Thee I have enough.

Best, though my health and strength be gone;
   Though weary days be mine;
Shut out from much that others have;
   Not my will, Lord, but Thine.

And e'en though disappointments come,
   They, too, are best for me
To wean me from this changing world
   And lead me nearer Thee.

O! for the peace of a perfect trust,
   That looks away from all;
That sees Thy hand in everything,
  In great events and small.

That hears Thy voice — a Father's voice —
  Directing for the best —
O! for the peace of a perfect trust,
   A heart with Thee at rest.
      —Author unknown

Dear people of Greeley

Dear people of Greeley and the neighboring towns,
from the mountains to the prairies and north and south-bound,

to any and all who can read this or hear,
to those who are hurting and cried many tears,
to those not so troubled and living in cheer,
to the wounded, discouraged, and living in fear,
to those who are broken and do not feel whole,
in body, mind, heart and/or soul,
or to those whom the story has never been told
from child to adult - young and the old,
maybe you've heard, but just want to wait
remember - there is no promise of tomorrow to wonder your fate,
for today is the time and now is the hour
to accept His love, His grace and His power.
Our life, forever, we can live with Him
when into our heart we ask Him to come in,
for Jesus is calling us one-and-all
no matter your circumstance - He died for us all.
For we are all guilty of sin ever day
but, forgiveness is ours when, to Him, we turn and pray.
He wants us to live in faith, hope, and love
and the greatest of these is His love from above.

Inspired by God,
Judi Tetiva
8/2012

Edgar Albert Guest - Bio

Edgar Albert Guest

1881–1959

Forced to drop out of high school to help support his family, Edgar A. Guest started his long career at the Detroit Free Press as a copyboy. He eventually wrote a daily column, “Breakfast Table Chat,” that included his own verse. These poems about everyday life were immensely popular throughout the country. A prolific writer of over 11,000 poems, Guest humbly called himself “a newspaper man who wrote verses.”

Poems

• Father
• It Couldn’t Be Done
• On Quitting

One fine day in the middle of the night,

One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight,
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other,
One was blind and the other couldn't, see
So they chose a dummy for a referee.
A blind man went to see fair play,
A dumb man went to shout "hooray!"
A paralysed donkey passing by,
Kicked the blind man in the eye,
Knocked him through a nine inch wall,
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all,
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
And came to arrest the two dead boys,
If you don't believe this story’s true,
Ask the blind man he saw it too!

The Great Divide.

Roy- here it is. I learned this from Sydney Maxwell, late of Vancouver.

 

When sin first reared its ugly head

And forced the widening span,

Between the man who walked with God

And the God Who made the man...

 

With sense of sin came sense of shame-

The naked sought to hide;

Instead of peace and fellowship,

There came the Great Divide.

 

Infinite love was wounded sore,

And sought to bridge the span;

Crush out the penetrating gulf,

And walk again with man.

 

He sent His own Beloved Son-

He came, He bled, He died;

To reconcile, He paid the price,

And He bridged the Great Divide.

 

Hope this helps.

 

Warmly,

 

Lindsay Parks

Indiana, PA