Journal of a Voyage from London to Savannah in Georgia

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Whittaker, Treacher, and Arnot, 1830 - 274 стор.

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Сторінка 58 - WHEN all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys, Transported with the view I'm lost In wonder, love, and praise...
Сторінка 70 - And the soldiers likewise demanded of him, saying, And what shall we do? And he said unto them, Do violence to no man, neither accuse any falsely; and be content with your wages.
Сторінка 109 - Fear him, ye saints, and you will then Have nothing else to fear; Make you his service your delight, Your wants shall be his care.
Сторінка 117 - Thus saith the Lord ; Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears : for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the Lord; and they shall come again from the land of the enemy. And there is hope in thine end, saith the Lord, that thy children shall come again to their own border.
Сторінка 110 - Praise the Lord, O my soul : and all that is within me praise his holy Name.
Сторінка 101 - Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.
Сторінка 80 - THE Lord my pasture shall prepare, And feed me with a shepherd's care ; His presence shall my wants supply, And guard me with a watchful eye : My noon-day walks he shall attend, And all my midnight hours defend.
Сторінка 171 - The prophet that hath a dream, let him tell a dream : and he that hath my word let him speak my word faithfully. What is the chaff to the wheat ? saith the Lord. Is not my word like as a fire ? saith the Lord ; and like a hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces ? Therefore, behold, I am against the prophets, saith the Lord, that steal my words, every one from his neighbour.
Сторінка 80 - Though in the paths of death I tread, With gloomy horrors overspread ; My steadfast heart shall fear no ill, For thou, O Lord, art with me still ; Thy friendly crook shall give me aid, And guide me through the dreadful shade Though in a bare and rugged way, Through devious lonely wilds I stray.
Сторінка 139 - Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me, but unto thy name be the praise.

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