I’ve found a Friend; O such a Friend! He loved me ere I knew Him;
He drew me with the cords of love, And thus He bound me to Him;
And round my heart still closely twine Those ties which nought can sever,
For I am His, and He is mine, Forever and forever.
I’ve found a Friend: O such a Friend! He bled, He died to save me;
And not alone the gift of life, But His own self He gave me.
Nought that I have mine own I call, I hold it for the Giver;
My heart, my strength, my life, my all, Are His, and His forever.
I’ve found a Friend; O such a Friend! All power to Him is given
To guard me on my onward course, And bring me safe to heaven.
The eternal glories gleam afar To nerve my faint endeavour;
So now to watch, to work, to war, And then to rest forever
I’ve found a Friend; O such a Friend, So kind, and true, and tender!
So wise a Counselor, and Guide, So mighty a Defender!
From Him who loves me now so well What power my soul shall sever?
Shall life or death, shall earth or hell? No! I am His forever.
James G. Small, 1863
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Free Songs

I've been a fan of this album for a while now. If you don't already have it, I strongly recommend the short process of downloading them for free. You've got a week! To download, click here.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Friday, April 02, 2010
I See the Crowd in Pilate's Hall
I see the crowd in Pilate's hall,
Their furious cries I hear;
Their shouts of "Crucify!" appall,
Their curses fill mine ear.
And of that shouting multitude
I feel that I am one,
And in that din of voices rude
I recognize my own.
I see the scourgers rend the flesh
Of God's beloved Son;
And as they smite I feel afresh
That I of them am one.
Around the Cross the throng I see
That mock the Sufferer's groan,
Yet still my voice it seems to be,
As if I mocked alone.
'Twas I that shed that sacred Blood,
I nailed him to the Tree,
I crucified the Christ of God,
I joined the mockery.
Yet not the less that Blood avails
To cleanse me from sin,
And not the less that Cross prevails
To give me peace within.
Horatius Bonar, 1856
Their furious cries I hear;
Their shouts of "Crucify!" appall,
Their curses fill mine ear.
And of that shouting multitude
I feel that I am one,
And in that din of voices rude
I recognize my own.
I see the scourgers rend the flesh
Of God's beloved Son;
And as they smite I feel afresh
That I of them am one.
Around the Cross the throng I see
That mock the Sufferer's groan,
Yet still my voice it seems to be,
As if I mocked alone.
'Twas I that shed that sacred Blood,
I nailed him to the Tree,
I crucified the Christ of God,
I joined the mockery.
Yet not the less that Blood avails
To cleanse me from sin,
And not the less that Cross prevails
To give me peace within.
Horatius Bonar, 1856
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