A Book for Spare Moments: The Urn and the PageJames Hogg, 1856 - 162 sider |
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Side 11
... . My God thou art all love , Not one poor minute ' scapes thy breast , But brings a favour from above : And in this love , more than in bed , I rest . Herbert . AN AUTUMN MORNING . Go ! let the diving Negro 11 and the Page .
... . My God thou art all love , Not one poor minute ' scapes thy breast , But brings a favour from above : And in this love , more than in bed , I rest . Herbert . AN AUTUMN MORNING . Go ! let the diving Negro 11 and the Page .
Side 14
... rest of our creation Our great Redeemer did remove With the same shake which , at his passion , Did the earth and all things with it move . As Samson bore the doors away , Christ's hands , though nail'd , wrought our salvation , And did ...
... rest of our creation Our great Redeemer did remove With the same shake which , at his passion , Did the earth and all things with it move . As Samson bore the doors away , Christ's hands , though nail'd , wrought our salvation , And did ...
Side 16
... the boundless sea , A moment parted from eternity ; A pilgrim panting for a rest to come , An exile anxious for his native home . More . THE DEW AND THE SMALL RAIN . The doctrine of 16 The Urn The Two Folding-doors Soul-emblems.
... the boundless sea , A moment parted from eternity ; A pilgrim panting for a rest to come , An exile anxious for his native home . More . THE DEW AND THE SMALL RAIN . The doctrine of 16 The Urn The Two Folding-doors Soul-emblems.
Side 29
... rest , which he is sailing to , but patiently and painfully passing through them , because there is no other way to glory . And it is the desire of the land to which he is sailing , that moveth the mariner or passenger to do all that he ...
... rest , which he is sailing to , but patiently and painfully passing through them , because there is no other way to glory . And it is the desire of the land to which he is sailing , that moveth the mariner or passenger to do all that he ...
Side 34
... rest of our cares , and the calm of our tempest ; prayer is the voice of a quiet mind , of untroubled thoughts ; it is the daughter of Christ , the sister of meekness ; and he that prays to God with an angry , that is , with a troubled ...
... rest of our cares , and the calm of our tempest ; prayer is the voice of a quiet mind , of untroubled thoughts ; it is the daughter of Christ , the sister of meekness ; and he that prays to God with an angry , that is , with a troubled ...
Andre utgaver - Vis alle
A Book for Spare Moments: The Urn and the Page Harvey Buckland Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2016 |
A Book for Spare Moments: The Urn and the Page (Classic Reprint) Harvey Buckland Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2015 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
angels anger beauty behold bird Bishop blessed bliss body breath bright Christ Christianity church clouds conscience death deformity delight divine dost doth Drayton earth eternal eternal majesty eyes fair faith fear flower give glory God's grace hand happy hath hear hearers heart heaven heavenly Hee wyll Herbert Herrick holy honour hope IRRELIGION Jeremy Taylor journey's end king labour light LIP-LABOUR live lively colours Lord majesty man's memory mercy mind morning mortal nature nature's never ornainent ourselves ourselves to know pain Paraclete pleasure poor praise pray prayer preaching preter rejoice religion rich SABBATH Selden sense sermons shade Sir Philip Sydney Sir Thomas Wyatt sorrows soul Spenser spirit strong sweet Sweet day tears thee thine things Thomas Fuller Thomas Hudson thou hast thoughts tion true UNHAPPY DIVISION virtue weeping wherein wisdom wise
Populære avsnitt
Side 99 - Though justice be thy plea, consider this, That, in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation : we do pray for mercy ; And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy.
Side 120 - Yet even in the Old Testament, if you listen to David's harp, you shall hear as many hearselike airs as carols ; and the pencil of the Holy Ghost hath laboured more in describing the afflictions of Job than the felicities of Solomon.
Side 47 - EVEN such is time, that takes in trust Our youth, our joys, our all we have, And pays us but with earth and dust; Who, in the dark and silent grave, When we have wandered all our ways, Shuts up the story of our days; But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust!
Side 118 - Implore his aid, in his decisions rest, Secure whate'er he gives, he gives the best. Yet when the sense of sacred presence fires, And strong devotion to the skies aspires, Pour forth thy fervours for a healthful mind, Obedient passions, and a will resign'd...
Side 102 - Hark! they whisper; Angels say, Sister Spirit, come away. What is this absorbs me quite? Steals my senses, shuts my sight, Drowns my spirits, draws my breath?
Side 63 - God; and still, whilo a man tells the story, the sun gets up higher, till he shows a fair face and a full light, and then he shines one whole day, under a cloud often, and sometimes weeping great and little showers, and sets quickly. So is a man's reason and his life.
Side 99 - It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : ' Tis mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown ; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; But mercy is above this sceptred sway ; It is enthroned in the hearts of kings ; It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice.
Side 151 - We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ! As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
Side 79 - With blooming gold, and blushes like the morn. Each passing hour sheds tribute from her wings; And still new beauties meet his lonely walk, And loves unfelt attract him.
Side 90 - The dew shall weep thy fall to-night ; For thou must die. Sweet Rose, whose hue angry and brave Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou must die. Sweet Spring, full of sweet days and roses, A box where sweets compacted lie, My Music shows ye have your closes, And all must die. Only a sweet and virtuous soul, Like season'd timber, never gives ; But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives.