Irenĉus Letters

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New York observer, 1880 - 400 páginas

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Página 2 - He that spareth his rod hateth his son: but he that loveth him chasteneth him betimes.
Página 71 - Come, let us join our cheerful songs With angels round the throne; Ten thousand thousand are their tongues, But all their joys are one. 2 "Worthy the Lamb that died," they cry, "To be exalted thus.
Página 75 - All jubilant with song, And bright with many an angel, And all the martyr throng: The Prince is ever in them, The daylight is serene, The pastures of the blessed Are decked in glorious sheen. 3 There is the throne of David, And there, from care released, The song of them that triumph, The shout of them that feast; And they, who with their Leader Have conquered in the fight, For ever and for ever Are clad in robes of white.
Página 74 - FOR thee, O dear, dear country, Mine eyes their vigils keep ; For very love, beholding Thy happy name, they weep. The mention of thy glory Is unction to the breast, And medicine in sickness, And love, and life, and rest.
Página 293 - How doth the city sit solitary, that was full of people ! how is she become as a widow ! she that was great among the nations, and princess among the provinces, how is she become tributary...
Página 141 - How sweet the name of Jesus sounds In a believer's ear ! It soothes his sorrows, heals his wounds, And drives away his fear.
Página 315 - Ye Ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow Adown enormous ravines slope amain Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge! Motionless torrents! silent cataracts! Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven Beneath the keen full moon? Who bade the sun Clothe you with rainbows? Who, with living flowers Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet? GOD! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plains echo, GOD!
Página 73 - JUST as I am, without one plea, But that thy blood was shed for me, And that thou bid'st me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come!
Página 344 - There is the throne of David ; And there, from care released, The shout of them that triumph, The song of them that feast. And they, who, with their Leader, Have conquered in the fight, For ever and for ever Are clad in robes of white.
Página 315 - What shall we call them ? Piles of crystal light, A glorious company of golden streams, Lamps of celestial ether burning bright, Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams ? But thou to these art as the noon to night.

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