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Thou, rather than thy justice should be stained,
O, what a groan was there! a groan not His.
The Son of God
Pollok. God's own son, unblemished victim, gave Himself a sacrifice, and by His blood, Upon the cross poured forth, washed out the stain Of primal sin.
Behold, unmoved, the atoning hour,
And death resigns his iron power?
Jesus, thy name beyond all nature loud,
Advance, O hopeless mortal, steeled in guilt,
Lamb of God! Our Priest and Pastor,
Who canst bid all evil cease,
Make our feeble love increase!
That Thy wrath is our deserts,
All iniquity departs,
"Sinner, go in peace!” C. D. McLeod.
Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs,
Join to sing the pleasing theme;
AVARICE. SOME remove the landmarks; they violently take away flocks, and feed thereof.
They drive away the ass of the fatherless, they take the widow's ox for a pledge.
They turn the needy out of the way; the poor of the earth hide themselves together.--Job, xxiv. 2, 3, 4.
Woe unto them that join house to house, that lay field to field, till there be no place, that they may be placed alone in the midst of the earth!--Isaiah, v. 8.
Your gold and silver is cankered, and the rust of them shall be a witness against you, and shall eat your flesh as it were fire. Ye have heaped treasure together for the last days.
Behold, the hire of the labourers who have reaped down your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, crieth: and the cries of them which have reaped, are entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth.--James, v. 3, 4.
For of his wicked pelf his god he made,
And unto hell himself for money sold: Accursed usury was all his trade, And right and wrong alike in equal balance weighed.
Spenser. If thou art rich, thou art poor; For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, Thou bearest thy heavy riches but a journey, And death unloads thee.
Woe to the worldly man, whose covetous
Young. O cursed lust of gold! when for thy sake The fool tirows up his interest in both worlds; First starved in this, then damned in that to come!
Starve beside the chests, whose every corn
Sir E. B. Lytton.
W. H. Burleigh. But should my destiny be quest of wealth, Kind Heaven, oh! keep my tempted soul in health! And should'st thou bless my toil with ample store, Keep back the madness that would seek for more!
Thomas Ward. Oh! life misspent-Oh! foulest waste of time! No time has he his grovelling mind to store With history's truths, or philosophic lore. No charms for him has God's all-blooming earthHis only question this—“What are they worth?” Art, nature, wisdom, are no match for gain; And even religion bids him pause in vain.
Thomas Ward. The miser comes, his heart to mammon soldHis life, his hope, his god, his all is gold. “To-morrow, and to-morrow," he will say, “Soul, take thine ease, for thou hast many a day Whose smiling dawns will make thee to rejoice.' Hush! Hark the echoes of that awful voice! “Thou fool! This night yield up thy earthly trust!” Gaze once again, his treasures are but dust.
B. D. Winslow. Gold! gold! in all ages the curse of mankind, Thy fetters are forged for the soul and the mind: The limbs may be free as the wings of a bird, And the mind be the slave of a look or a word. To gain thee, men barter eternity's crown, Yield honour, affection, and lasting renown.
Park Benjamin. AWAKE-ARISE. Awake up, my glory; awake psaltery and harp; I myself will awake early.--Psalm lvii. 8.
Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen upon thee.
And the Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising.--Isaiah, lx. 1, 3.
Arise ye, and depart, for this is not your rest; because it is polluted. --Micah, ii. 10.
AWAKE, my soul, and with the sun
Awake our souls, and bless his name,
Whose mercies never fail;
In Achor's gloomy vale.
The buildings strong and fair;
And living streams are there.
For Jesus is the door;
Nor fear the lion's roar.
And Jews and Gentiles come,