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Сторінка 14 - Then Jesus answering said unto them. Go your way, and tell John what things ye have seen and heard; how that the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised. to the poor the gospel is preached.
Сторінка 95 - All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow, All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing, All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience ! And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured,
Сторінка 30 - I WORSHIP Thee, sweet Will of GOD! And all Thy ways adore, And every day I live, I seem To love Thee more and more.
Сторінка 75 - Love ordains, — for Love art Thou ! Suffering, is the work now sent : Nothing can I do but lie Suffering, as the hours go by ; All my powers to this are bent. Suffering is my gain : I bow To my heavenly Father's will, And receive it, hush'd and still : Suffering is my worship now.
Сторінка 94 - UNTO God's gracious mercy and protection we commit thee. The Lord bless thee, and keep thee. The Lord make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace, both now and evermore.
Сторінка 30 - He always wins who sides with God, To him no chance is lost : God's will is sweetest to him when It triumphs at his cost. Ill that God blesses is our good, And unblest good is ill ; And all is right that seems most wrong, If it be his dear will...
Сторінка 89 - Here brief is the sighing, And brief is the crying, For brief is the life ! The life there is endless, The joy there is endless, And ended the strife. What joys are in heaven? To whom are they given ? Ah! what? and to whom? The stars to the earth-born,
Сторінка 58 - In life's long sickness evermore Our thoughts are tossing to and fro : We change our posture o'er and o'er, But cannot rest, nor cheat our woe. Were it not better to lie still, Let Him strike home and bless the rod, Never so safe as when our will Yields undiscerned by all but God...
Сторінка 75 - Faint not through the o'erwearied flesh, Let her hourly drink afresh Love and peace from thee, my God. Let the body's pain and smart Hinder not her flight to thee, Nor the calm thou givest me ; Keep thou up the sinking heart. Grant me never to complain, Make me to thy will resigned, With a quiet, humble mind, Cheerful on my bed of pain.