Notices of the State of Religion in Geneva and Belgium

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James Maclehose, 1844 - 250 sider

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Side 88 - Hold fast the form of sound words, which thou hast heard of me, in faith and love which is in Christ Jesus. 14 That good thing which was committed unto thee keep by the Holy Ghost which dwelleth in us.
Side 65 - When ye come to appear before me, Who hath required this at your hand, To tread my courts? Bring no more vain oblations; Incense is an abomination unto me; The new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; It is iniquity, even the solemn meeting.
Side 193 - WHEN the Lord turned again the captivity of Zion, we were like them that dream. Then was our mouth filled with laughter, and our tongue with singing: then said they among the heathen, The Lord hath done great things for them. The Lord hath done great things for us ; whereof we are glad.
Side 131 - And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not, I will lead them in paths that they have not known : I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake . them.
Side 148 - AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our Fathers worshipped stocks and stones...
Side 192 - Go through, go through the gates ; prepare ye the way of the people ; cast up, cast up the highway ; gather out the stones ; lift up a standard for the people.
Side 148 - Their martyr'd blood and ashes sow O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway The triple Tyrant ; that from these may grow A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way, Early may fly the Babylonian woe.
Side 141 - I will take you one of a city, and two of a family, and I will bring you to Zion : And I will give you pastors according to mine heart, which shall feed you with knowledge and understanding.
Side 193 - God, the heathen are come into thine inheritance ; thy holy temple have they defiled ; they have laid Jerusalem on heaps.
Side 148 - When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not : in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks. Their moans The vales redoubled to the hills and they To heaven.

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