Memoir of Mrs. Sarah D. Comstock: Missionary to Arracan

Portada
American Baptist Publication Society, 1854 - 228 páginas
 

Páginas seleccionadas

Otras ediciones - Ver todas

Términos y frases comunes

Pasajes populares

Página 56 - YES, my native land, I love thee; All thy scenes, I love them well; Friends, connections, happy country, Can I bid you all farewell?
Página 1 - In the deserts let me labor, On the mountains let me tell, How he died — the blessed Saviour — To redeem a world from hell ! Let me hasten, Far in heathen lands to dwell.
Página 206 - She came here to die, far from her native land, with no mother or sister near her, because she pitied us.' Expressions similar to these were made and listened to with many tears. I remarked once, * What crowds are pressing to the house! Are all from the town ?' A bystander replied, ' Yes ; as the news spreads all will be here, for she was greatly beloved.
Página 167 - There, on a green and flowery mount, Our weary souls shall sit, And with transporting joys recount The labours of our feet.
Página 54 - God, and the judgment shall be set, and the books opened, and the dead shall be judged out of those things which are written in the books, according to their works. This universal examination into the human character, this critical dissection of the heart of man, from the first created being to him who shall be caught up alive in the air at Christ's second coming, shall infallibly take place.
Página 46 - I shall feel happier than to die On softer bed. And if I should reach Heaven, — If one...
Página 55 - the God of all grace, who hath called us unto His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered awhile, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.
Página 69 - In the sacred page recorded, Thus his word securely stands, " Fear not, I'm in trouble near thee, Nought shall pluck thee from my hands :" Sweet affliction, Every word my love demands.
Página 18 - When thy father and thy mother forsake thee, then the Lord will take thee up.
Página 148 - HOW vain are all things here below ! How false and yet how fair ! Each pleasure hath its poison too, And every sweet a snare.

Información bibliográfica