BFTBC – “The Sands of Time Are Sinking” – Mr. Richard Carroll
BFTBC – “The Sands of Time Are Sinking” – Mr. Richard Carroll
On Sunday, March, 9, 2014, Mr. Richard Carroll played “The Sands of Time Are Sinking” on the piano at Bible For Today Baptist Church of Collingswood, New Jersey.
Pastor D. A. Waite
Bible For Today Baptist Church
900 Park Avenue
Collingswood, NJ 08108
www.BibleForToday.org
856-854-4747
Richard Carroll, The Sands of Time Are Sinking, BFTBC, D. A. Waite, Collingswood, He is the fountain, death doomed shores, Red Rose of Sharon, in Immanuel’s land
The sands of time are sinking, the dawn of Heaven breaks;
The summer morn I’ve sighed for—the fair, sweet morn awakes:
Dark, dark hath been the midnight, but dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
O Christ, He is the fountain, the deep, sweet well of love!
The streams of earth I’ve tasted more deep I’ll drink above:
There to an ocean fullness His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
Oh! Well it is forever, Oh! well forevermore,
My nest hung in no forest of all this death doomed shore:
Yea, let the vain world vanish, as from the ship the strand,
While glory—glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
There the Red Rose of Sharon unfolds its heartsome bloom
And fills the air of heaven with ravishing perfume:
Oh! To behold it blossom, while by its fragrance fanned
Where glory—glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
On Sunday, March, 9, 2014, Mr. Richard Carroll played “The Sands of Time Are Sinking” on the piano at Bible For Today Baptist Church of Collingswood, New Jersey.
Pastor D. A. Waite
Bible For Today Baptist Church
900 Park Avenue
Collingswood, NJ 08108
www.BibleForToday.org
856-854-4747
Richard Carroll, The Sands of Time Are Sinking, BFTBC, D. A. Waite, Collingswood, He is the fountain, death doomed shores, Red Rose of Sharon, in Immanuel’s land
The sands of time are sinking, the dawn of Heaven breaks;
The summer morn I’ve sighed for—the fair, sweet morn awakes:
Dark, dark hath been the midnight, but dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
O Christ, He is the fountain, the deep, sweet well of love!
The streams of earth I’ve tasted more deep I’ll drink above:
There to an ocean fullness His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
Oh! Well it is forever, Oh! well forevermore,
My nest hung in no forest of all this death doomed shore:
Yea, let the vain world vanish, as from the ship the strand,
While glory—glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
There the Red Rose of Sharon unfolds its heartsome bloom
And fills the air of heaven with ravishing perfume:
Oh! To behold it blossom, while by its fragrance fanned
Where glory—glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.
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