Echoes of eternity [a religious anthology] by H.J. Fry, 第 242 号

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124 ページ - Prosperity is the blessing of the Old Testament, adversity is the blessing of the New, which carrieth the greater benediction and the clearer revelation of God's favour.
76 ページ - Finally brethren, farewell : be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace ; and the God of love and peace shall be with you.
84 ページ - So shall my walk be close with God, Calm and serene my frame ; So purer light shall mark the road That leads me to the Lamb.
117 ページ - These are thy wonders, Lord of love, To make us see we are but flowers that glide : Which when we once can find and prove, Thou hast a garden for us, where to bide. Who would be more, Swelling through store, Forfeit their Paradise by their pride.
17 ページ - He arose, fresh as the morning, to his task : the silence of the night invited him to pursue it ; and he can truly say, that food and rest were not preferred before it. Every psalm improved infinitely upon his acquaintance with it, and no one gave him uneasiness but the last ; for then he grieved that his work was done.
29 ページ - When, marshalled on the nightly plain, The glittering host bestud the sky, One Star alone, of all the train, Can fix the sinner's wandering eye. Hark ! hark ! to God the chorus breaks, From every host, from every gem ; But one alone the Saviour speaks, It is the star of Bethlehem.
99 ページ - Whilst all the stars that round her burn, And all the planets in their turn, Confirm the tidings as they roll, And spread the truth from pole to pole.
55 ページ - In that day shall the Lord of hosts be for a crown of glory, and for a diadem of beauty, unto the residue of his people...
132 ページ - JESUS, Lover of my soul, Let me to Thy bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high; Hide me, O my Saviour, hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide, O receive my soul at last.
74 ページ - Sure, Lord, there is enough in thee to dry Oceans of ink ; for, as the deluge did Cover the earth, so doth thy majesty : Each cloud distils thy praise, and doth forbid Poets to turn it to another use.

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