The Pilgrims of Iowa

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Pilgrim Press, 1911 - 422 páginas

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Página 280 - I LOVE thy kingdom, Lord,— The house of thine abode, — The Church our blest Redeemer saved With his own precious blood. 2 I love thy Church, O God ! Her walls before thee stand, Dear as the apple of thine eye, And graven on thy hand. 3 For her my tears shall fall ; For her my prayers ascend ; To her my cares and toils be given, Till toils and cares shall end.
Página 13 - There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. The same came for a witness to bear witness of the light, that all men through him might believe. He was not that light, but was sent to bear witness of that light. That was the true light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.
Página 151 - WE cross the prairie as of old The pilgrims crossed the sea, To make the West, as they the East, The homestead of the free...
Página 271 - One army of the living God, To his command we bow ; Part of the host have crossed the flood, And part are crossing now.
Página 279 - In every joy that crowns my days, In every pain I bear, My heart shall find delight in praise, Or seek relief in prayer.
Página 7 - We have lived long, but this is the noblest work of our whole lives. The treaty which we have just signed has not been obtained by art or dictated by force; equally advantageous to the two contracting parties, it will change vast solitudes into flourishing districts.
Página 67 - I hear the far-off voyager's horn ; I see the Yankee's trail, — His foot on every mountain-pass, On every stream his sail.
Página 280 - Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed.
Página 12 - States have accomplished this twofold purpose with singular felicity; tranquilly, legally, philanthropically, without shedding blood, and without violating a single great principle of morality in the eyes of the world.^ It is impossible to destroy men with more respect for the laws of humanity.
Página 67 - Behind the scared squaw's birch canoe, The steamer smokes and raves ; And city lots are staked for sale Above old Indian graves. I hear the tread of pioneers Of nations yet to be ; The first low wash of waves, where soon Shall roll a human sea.

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