Some Memories

American Unitarian Association, 1908 - 248 páginas

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Página 31 - As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the wicked turn from his way and live, turn ye, turn ye, from your evil ways; for why will ye die?
Página 10 - To you, in David's town, this day Is born of David's line, The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord ; And this shall be the sign.
Página 204 - ... with his sister at play ! O well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the bay ! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill ; But O for the touch of a...
Página 90 - Whither thou goest, I will go . and where thou lodgest, I will lodge. Thy people shall be my people, and thy God, my God. Where thou diest, I will die, and there will I be buried. The Lord do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part me and thee ! '' Not the most carefully studied oration could breathe more undying, changeless, self-submitting devotion, than these few and simple words.
Página 246 - To bear the tear-blent sympathy, And fiery chariots rushed to bring The offerings of humanity. Thy tender pity met our pain, Thy love has raised us from the dust ; We meet to bless thee, Lord, again, And in our temple sing our trust.
Página 209 - WATCHMAN, tell us of the night, What its signs of promise are. Traveller, o'er yon mountain's height See that glory-beaming star ! Watchman, does its beauteous ray Aught of hope or joy foretell ? Traveller, yes ; it brings the day, Promised day of Israel. 2 Watchman, tell us of the night ; Higher yet that star ascends.
Página 246 - O Lord our God, when storm and flame Hurled homes and temples into dust, We gathered here to bless Thy name, And on our ruin wrote our trust. Thy tender pity met our pain, Swift through the earth Thine angels ran, And then Thy Christ appeared again.
Página 33 - It was in June. I see the place still, and am aware of the fragrance of the wild uplands stealing through the open lattice on bars of sunshine, to mingle with the pungent snap of the peat fire on the hearth which gives forth the essence of the moorlands for a thousand years. And -I still mind how heavy my heart was that afternoon. I had been trying all the week to find a sermon in a parable; but there was no pulse to answer, no vision, and Bishop Home says, "If you distill dry bones, all you will...
Página 63 - That a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies, That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright, But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.
Página 218 - The common home of rich and poor, Of bond and free, and great and small, Large as Thy love for evermore, And warm and bright and good to all.

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