S. John's in the Wilderness, studies of a country parish

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Page 45 - THERE is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
Page 135 - Full many a gem of purest ray serene The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air. Some village- Hampden, that, with dauntless breast, The little tyrant of his fields withstood, Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. Th...
Page 109 - Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme: How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He, who bore in heaven the second name, Had not on earth whereon to lay His head; How his first followers and servants sped — The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who, lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command. Then kneeling down to Heaven's eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "...
Page 88 - And he led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of habitation.
Page 38 - That day of wrath, that dreadful day, When heaven and earth shall pass away, What power shall be the sinner's stay ? How shall he meet that dreadful day...
Page 9 - Then I said, I have laboured in vain, I have spent my strength for nought, and in vain : yet surely my judgment is with the LORD, and my work with my God.
Page 102 - I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith; but now I go where I shall live by sight, and shall be with Him in whose company I delight myself. I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of; and wherever I have seen the print of His shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too.
Page 1 - Yes, that blessed name imparts Comfort to those who in the grave have sown The seed that they had garnered in their hearts, Their bread of life, alas ! no more their own. Into its furrows shall we all be cast, In the sure faith that we shall rise again At the great harvest, when the archangel's blast Shall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain. Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom...
Page 66 - It matters little at what hour o' the day The righteous falls asleep, death cannot come To him untimely who is fit to die: The less of this cold world, the more of heaven, The briefer life, the earlier immortality.
Page 31 - Oh say not, dream not, heavenly notes To childish ears are vain, That the young mind at random floats, And cannot reach the strain. Dim or unheard, the words may fall, And yet the heaven-taught mind May learn the sacred air, and all The harmony unwind.

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