The Church Seasons Historically and Poetically IllustratedJames Hogg & Son, 1869 - 511 sider |
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Side 20
... bringing Him offer- ings from their flocks- " a lamb to the Paschal - lamb , to the first - born a first - born " —the lamb bleating its praises to Him whose coming as the Lamb of God proclaimed to lambs and oxen an immunity from ...
... bringing Him offer- ings from their flocks- " a lamb to the Paschal - lamb , to the first - born a first - born " —the lamb bleating its praises to Him whose coming as the Lamb of God proclaimed to lambs and oxen an immunity from ...
Side 30
... bring ; Oh ! hush the noise , ye men of strife , And hear the angels sing ! And ye , beneath life's crushing load , Whose forms are bending low , Who toil along the climbing way With painful steps , and slow ; Look now ! for glad and ...
... bring ; Oh ! hush the noise , ye men of strife , And hear the angels sing ! And ye , beneath life's crushing load , Whose forms are bending low , Who toil along the climbing way With painful steps , and slow ; Look now ! for glad and ...
Side 37
... bring back chaos , to place the world under the dominion of violence , and to enthrone the devil . There is no Christian grace which is not founded on justice all round ; to ourselves , as from others , to others as from ourselves ...
... bring back chaos , to place the world under the dominion of violence , and to enthrone the devil . There is no Christian grace which is not founded on justice all round ; to ourselves , as from others , to others as from ourselves ...
Side 58
... brings wherever she arrives ; She builds our quiet , as she forms our lives ; Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even , And opens in each heart a little heaven . Each other gift which God on man bestows , Its proper bounds and due ...
... brings wherever she arrives ; She builds our quiet , as she forms our lives ; Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even , And opens in each heart a little heaven . Each other gift which God on man bestows , Its proper bounds and due ...
Side 63
... brings wherever she arrives ; She builds our quiet , as she forms our lives ; Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even , And opens in each heart a little heaven . Each other gift which God on man bestows , Its proper bounds and due ...
... brings wherever she arrives ; She builds our quiet , as she forms our lives ; Lays the rough paths of peevish nature even , And opens in each heart a little heaven . Each other gift which God on man bestows , Its proper bounds and due ...
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The Church Seasons Historically and Poetically Illustrated Alexander Henley Grant Uten tilgangsbegrensning - 1869 |
The Church Seasons Historically and Poetically Illustrated Alexander Henley Grant Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2015 |
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agony ancient angels anniversary Apostles Ascension Ash Wednesday Augustine baptism Bernard of Clairvaux Bishop blessed blood called Canon celebration century charity Charles Wesley CHRIST is risen Christian Chrysostom Circumcision Circumcision of Christ commemoration Council Council of Elvira crown custom death disciples divine doth earth Easter Ephesus Epiphany eternal Eusebius Evangelist faith fast Father feast festival flesh forty days give glorious glory Gospel grace hath heart heaven heavenly Holy Week Homily honour human hymn Irenæus Jesus Jewish Jews John King Lent light Lord Lord's martyrdom martyrs Maundy Thursday Nativity o'er observance Paschal Passion Passover peace penitence Pentecost poem poet poetical praise prayer prophet Resurrection Rogation days sacred saints Saviour says season solemn Sonnet soul star Stephen Stephen's day Sunday tears Tertullian Thee Thine Thou throne Thy name Thy nature tion unto verses weeping whilst wise words
Populære avsnitt
Side 63 - As to the tabor's sound, To me alone there came a thought of grief: A timely utterance gave that thought relief, And I again am strong: The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep; No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, And all the earth is gay; Land and sea Give themselves up to jollity...
Side 104 - The oracles are dumb, No voice or hideous hum Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. Apollo from his shrine Can no more divine, With hollow shriek the steep of Delphos leaving. No nightly trance, or breathed spell, Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic cell.
Side 63 - Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke The years to bring the inevitable yoke, Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? Full soon thy Soul shall have her earthly freight, And custom lie upon thee with a weight, Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life!
Side 134 - Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin through' which I run, And do run still, though still I do deplore ? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done, For I have more.
Side 89 - BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morning, Dawn on our darkness, and lend us Thine aid; Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid.
Side 63 - And with new joy and pride The little Actor cons another part; Filling from time to time his 'humorous stage' With all the Persons, down to palsied Age, That Life brings with her in her equipage; As if his whole vocation Were endless imitation.
Side 63 - Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! On whom those truths do rest, Which we are toiling all our lives to find, In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave; Thou, over whom thy Immortality Broods like the Day, a Master o'er a Slave, A Presence which is not to be put by...
Side 391 - O ! th' exceeding grace Of highest God that loves his creatures so, And all his works with mercy doth embrace, That blessed Angels He sends to and fro, To serve to wicked man, to serve his wicked foe.
Side 38 - Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so; For those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow, Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy...
Side 105 - And sullen Moloch, fled, Hath left in shadows dread His burning idol all of blackest hue; In vain with cymbals' ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis and Orus and the dog Anubis, haste.