Life’s Railway to Heaven
Life is like a mountain railway,
With an engineer that's brave.
We must make the right connections,
From the cradle to the grave.
Watch the curves, the fill, the tunnels,
Never falter, never quail.
Keep your hand upon the throttle,
And your eyes upon the rail.
refrain:
Blessed Saviour,
Thou wilt guide us,
Till we reach,
That Blissful shore,
Where the angels,
wait to join us,
In Thy praise
For ever more.
You will roll up grades of trial,
You will cross the bridge of strife.
See that Christ is your Conductor,
Of this lightning train of life.
Always mindful of obstuctions,
Do your duty, never fail.
Keep your hand upon the throttle,
And your eyes upon the rail.
refrain
You will often find obstructions,
Look for storms of wind and rain,
On a fill, or curve, or trestle,
They will almost ditch your train.
Put your trust alone in Jesus,
Never falter, never fail.
Keep your hand upon the throttle,
And your eyes upon the rail.
refrain
As you roll across the trestle,
Spanning Jordan's swelling tide,
You behold the Union Depot,
Into which your train will drive.
There you'll meet the Superintendent,
God the Father, God the Son,
With the hearty, joyus plaudit,
"Weary pilgrims, welcome home."
refrain
Похожие новости.
A Queens Story
Wave to the side of his dome, definition of good ? yo Gangstas don't die, niggas only become immortal Angels no longer fly, they walk right before you In front of you, it's
Кассир
1. Зачем, кассир, нажал ты кнопку, сигнал дал на Петровку? Наряд патрульный вызвал ты зачем, зачем? Зачем так много шуму в просторных залах ГУМа? И резонанс общественный зачем, зачем? Зачем так много шуму в
City Of Night
Taxi Cab, Taxi Cab, at the light Won't you take me on a ride through this city of night I got some money and I'm feeling fine I ain't in no hurry so
Loving You Is Better Than Ever
Lovin' you, baby Is better than ever The stronger the thought Of you that never ceases The longer our loving The more it increases But 'you' is where my everlasting peace is Keep me here Hold me close,
Rain For The Roses
It's ninety eight in the shade Mr. Rose is rolling hay Eighty acres down and ten to go Clouds are building in the south He knows times a running out And there goes that tractor's