Sanctified Spice, Or, Pungent Seasonings from the Pulpit

Portada
Wilbur B. Ketcham, 1893 - 216 páginas

Dentro del libro

Comentarios de la gente - Escribir un comentario

No encontramos ningún comentario en los lugares habituales.

Páginas seleccionadas

Otras ediciones - Ver todas

Términos y frases comunes

Pasajes populares

Página 185 - So I returned and considered all the oppressions that are done under the sun: and behold the tears of such as were oppressed, and they had no comforter; and on the side of their oppressors there was power; but they had no comforter.
Página 47 - Whose adorning, let it not be that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel; but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the orna-ment of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price.
Página 14 - Whose breast expands with generous warmth A stranger's woes to feel ; And bleeds in pity o'er the wound He wants the power to heal.
Página 123 - Wherefore do the wicked live, become old, yea, are mighty in power? Their seed is established in their sight with them, and their offspring before their eyes. Their houses are safe from fear, neither is the rod of God upon them.
Página 49 - I live for those who love me, For those who know me true; For the heaven that smiles above me, And awaits my spirit, too; For the cause that needs assistance, For the wrongs that need resistance, For the future in the distance, And the good that I can do.
Página 38 - The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. Is there any thing whereof it may be said, "See, this is new?" it hath been already of old time, which was before us.
Página 95 - For me, to lowest depths of woe Thou didst Thyself abase, For me didst bear the cross, the shame, And manifold disgrace ; For me didst suffer pains unknown, Blood-sweat and agony.
Página 119 - The world recedes; it disappears! Heaven opens on my eyes; my ears With sounds seraphic ring! Lend, lend your wings! I mount! I fly! O Grave! where is thy victory? O Death! where is thy sting?
Página 18 - It isn't the thing you do, dear, It's the thing you leave undone, Which gives you a bit of heartache At the setting of the sun.
Página 54 - That some thing may be done towards the Curing, or at least the Charming of that Spirit of Lying, which prevails among us, wherefore nothing shall be entered, but what we have reason to believe is true, repairing to the best fountains for our Information. And when there appears any material mistake in any thing that is collected, it shall be corrected in the next.

Información bibliográfica