The Odd Fellows' Magazine, Volum 2

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M. Wardle, 1831
 

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Pàgina 399 - Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy: but I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you...
Pàgina 298 - And now, brethren, I commend you to God, and to the Word of His grace, Which is able to build you up, and to give you an inheritance among all them which are sanctified.
Pàgina 214 - Or in proud falls magnificently lost, But clear and artless, pouring through the plain Health to the sick, and solace to the swain. Whose causeway parts the vale with shady rows? Whose seats the weary traveller repose ? Who taught that heaven-directed spire to rise ? " The Man of Ross,
Pàgina 257 - Remove far from me vanity and lies: give me neither poverty nor riches ; feed me with food convenient for me: lest I be full, and deny thee, and say, Who is the Lord? or lest I be poor, and steal, and take the name of my God in vain.
Pàgina 256 - And if thy brother be waxen poor, and fallen in decay with thee; then thou shalt relieve him: yea, though he be a stranger, or a sojourner; that he may live with thee.
Pàgina 261 - When the ear heard me, then it blessed me : and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me : because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him. The blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me ; and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.
Pàgina 64 - I was going to begin with the millions of my fellowcreatures born to no inheritance but slavery; but finding, however affecting the picture was, that I could not bring it near me, and that the multitude of sad groups in it did but distract me, I took a single captive, and having first shut him up in his dungeon, I then looked through the twilight of his grated door to take his picture.
Pàgina 215 - Who builds a church to God, and not to Fame, Will never mark the marble with his name...
Pàgina 64 - ... his chair and bed : a little calendar of small sticks were laid at the head, notched all over with the dismal days and nights he had passed there — he had one of these little sticks in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching another day of misery to add to the heap.
Pàgina 64 - ... seen no sun, no moon, in all that time, nor had the voice of friend or kinsman...

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