The Christian Offering; Lyrical Poems and Prose Pieces, Sacred and Miscellaneous

Portada
 

QuŔ en diuen els usuaris - Escriviu una ressenya

No hem trobat cap ressenya als llocs habituals.

Altres edicions - Mostra-ho tot

Frases i termes mÚs freqŘents

Passatges populars

PÓgina 64 - Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away.
PÓgina 213 - Saviour will return Triumphant in the skies: Yet a season, and you know Happy entrance will be given ; All our sorrows left below, And earth exchanged for heaven.
PÓgina 200 - And flowers to wither at the north wind's breath, And stars to set -but all, Thou hast all seasons for thine own, O Death ! We know when moons shall wane, When summer-birds from far shall cross the sea, When autumn's hue shall tinge the golden grain — But who shall teach us when to look for thee?
PÓgina 203 - The place of fame and elegy supply : And many a holy text around she strews That teach the rustic moralist to die. For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er...
PÓgina 291 - Let not Ambition mock their useful toil, Their homely joys, and destiny obscure ; Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile, The short and simple annals of the poor. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of pow'r, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike th
PÓgina 295 - Moreover as for me, God forbid that I should sin against the LORD in ceasing to pray for you : but I will teach you the good and the right way : Only fear the LORD, and serve him in truth with all your heart : for consider how great things he hath done for you.
PÓgina 293 - Let cares, like a wild deluge, come, And storms of sorrow fall ; May I but safely reach my home, My God, my heaven, my all ; — 4.
PÓgina 43 - My heart is fixed, O God, my heart is fixed: I will sing and give praise. 8 Awake up, my glory; awake, psaltery and harp: I myself will awake early.
PÓgina 17 - With whose thick orchard-blooms the soft winds play, Send out their inmates in a happy flow, Like a freed vernal stream. I may not tread With them those pathways — to the feverish bed Of sickness bound ; yet, O my God ! I bless Thy mercy, that with Sabbath peace hath fill'd My chasten'd heart, and all its throbbings still'd To one deep calm of lowliest thankfulness ! April 26(A, 1835.
PÓgina 212 - Our life is hid with Christ in God, and when Christ, who is our life, shall appear ; then shall we also appear with him in glory.

Informaciˇ bibliogrÓfica