The Earnest Missionary; a Memoir of the Rev. Horatio Pearse

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Hamilton, Adams, 1864 - 277 стор.

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Сторінка 206 - HY way, not mine, O Lord, However dark it be ! Lead me by Thine own hand, Choose out the path for me.
Сторінка 277 - Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new Jerusalem , which cometh down out of heaven from my God: and I will write upon him my new name.
Сторінка 256 - Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be? Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.
Сторінка 76 - Their throat is an open sepulchre ; with their tongues they have used deceit; the poison of asps is under their lips: Whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness: Their feet are swift to shed blood: Destruction and misery are in their ways: And the way of peace have they not known: There is no fear of God before their eyes.
Сторінка 256 - I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless; Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness; Where is death's sting? where, grave, thy victory? I triumph still, if Thou abide with me. Hold then Thy cross before my closing eyes; Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies; Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee; In life, in death, O lord, abide with me.
Сторінка 40 - God save thee, ancient Mariner ! From the fiends, that plague thee thus ! — Why look'st thou so ? " — " With my cross-bow I shot the ALBATROSS.
Сторінка 62 - For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lest thou dash thy foot against a stone.
Сторінка 42 - While place we seek, or place we shun, The soul finds happiness in none , But with a God to guide our way, Tis equal joy to go or stay.
Сторінка 148 - Rest, weary head ! Lie down to slumber in the peaceful tomb ; Light from above has broken through its gloom : Here, in the place where once thy Saviour lay, Where He shall wake thee on a future day, Like a tired child upon its mother's breast, Rest, sweetly rest...
Сторінка 232 - Afar in the desert I love to ride, With the silent Bush-boy alone by my side...

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