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Страница 79 - And a man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest ; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land.
Страница 105 - Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that entereth not by the door into the sheepfold, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber.
Страница 74 - In whom ye also trusted, after that ye heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation : in whom also, after that ye believed, ye were sealed with that Holy Spirit of promise, which is the earnest of our inheritance until the redemption of the purchased possession, unto the praise of his glory.
Страница 100 - Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on! Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene, — one step enough for me.
Страница 100 - I was not ever thus, nor prayed that thou shouldst lead me on; I loved to choose and see my path; but now lead thou me on. I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, pride ruled my will: remember not past years. So long thy power hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on, o'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till the night is gone, and with the morn those angel faces smile, which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.
Страница 29 - I was made a member of Christ, a child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven.
Страница 99 - Then pass, ye mourners, cheerly on, Through prayer unto the tomb, Still, as ye watch life's falling leaf, Gathering from every loss and grief Hope of new spring and endless home. Then cheerly to your work again With hearts new-braced and set To run, untired, Love's blessed race, As meet for those, who face to face Over the gra,ve their Lord have met.
Страница 98 - Who says the widow's heart must break, The childless mother sink ? — A kinder, truer voice I hear, Which even beside that mournful bier Whence parents' eyes would hopeless shrink, Bids weep no more— O heart bereft, How strange, to thee, that sound ! A widow o'er her only son, Feeling more bitterly alone For friends that press officious round. Yet is the voice of comfort heard, For Christ hath...