The Spiritual Life: Studies of Devotion and Worship

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George H. Ellis, 1893 - 198 páginas
 

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Página 147 - Lord, with what care hast thou begirt us round ! Parents first season us ; then schoolmasters Deliver us to laws ; they send us bound To rules of reason, holy messengers, Pulpits and Sundays, sorrow dogging sin, Afflictions sorted, anguish of all sizes...
Página 155 - There are in this loud stunning tide Of human care and crime, With whom the melodies abide Of the everlasting chime ; Who carry music in their heart Through dusky lane and wrangling mart, Plying their daily task with busier feet, Because their secret souls a holy strain repeat.
Página 144 - There was also that met them with Harps and Crowns, and gave them to them, the Harps to praise withal, and the Crowns in token of honour. Then I heard in my Dream that all the Bells in the City rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, Enter ye into the joy of your Lord.
Página 51 - For in the time of trouble he shall hide me in his pavilion: in the secret of his tabernacle shall he hide me; he shall set me up upon a rock.
Página 183 - Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh, When the bird waketh and the shadows flee ; Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight, Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee!
Página 179 - It fortifies my soul to know That, though I perish, Truth is so : That, howsoe'er I stray and range, Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change. I steadier step when I recall That, if I slip, Thou dost not falL 'PERCHE PENSA?
Página 80 - What soul was his, when, from the naked top Of some bold headland, he beheld the sun Rise up, and bathe the world in light! He looked — Ocean and earth, the solid frame of earth And ocean's liquid mass, beneath him lay In gladness and deep joy. The clouds were touched, And in their silent faces did he read Unutterable love.
Página 186 - Wilt Thou not visit me? Thy morning calls on me with cheering tone; And every hill and tree Lend but one voice, — the voice of Thee alone. Come, for I need thy love, More than the flower the dew or grass the rain; Come, gently as thy holy dove; And let me in thy sight rejoice to live again.
Página 107 - A LITTLE bird I am, Shut from the fields of air ; And in my cage I sit, and sing To Him who placed me there ; Well pleased a prisoner to be, Because, my God, it pleases thee.
Página 46 - No longer do I call you servants ; for the servant knoweth not what his lord doeth : but I have called you friends ; for all things that I heard from my Father I have made known unto you.

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