The Mission Field, Volume 21

Front Cover
Boards of the Reformed Church in America, 1908 - Missions
 

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Page 472 - He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me : and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And he that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of me.
Page 236 - Although the fig tree shall not blossom, * neither shall fruit be in the vines. The labor of the olive shall fail, * and the fields shall yield no meat ; The flock shall be cut off from the fold, * and there shall be no herd in the stalls : Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, * I will joy in the God of my salvation.
Page 118 - The common problem, yours, mine, every one's, Is — not to fancy what were fair in life Provided it could be, — but, finding first What may be, then find how to make it fair Up to our means: a very different thing!
Page 247 - Nearer and nearer draws the time, the time that shall surely be, / When the earth shall be filled with the glory of God as the waters cover the sea.
Page 234 - PRAISE to God, immortal praise, For the love that crowns our days : Bounteous source of every joy, Let thy praise our tongues employ : 2 For the blessings of the field, For the stores the gardens...
Page 235 - Although my house be not so with God ; Yet he hath made with me an everlasting covenant, Ordered in all things, and sure: For this is all my salvation, and all my desire, Although he make it not to grow.
Page 237 - Jesus sought me when a stranger, Wandering from the fold of God ; He, to rescue me from danger, Interposed His precious blood. 3 O ! to grace how great a debtor Daily I'm constrained to be ! Let that grace, Lord, like a fetter, Bind my wandering heart to Thee...
Page 495 - The East bow'd low before the blast In patient, deep disdain; She let the legions thunder past, And 'plunged in thought again.
Page 237 - Here I raise my Ebenezer, Hither by Thy help I'm come ; And I hope, by Thy good pleasure, Safely to arrive at home...
Page 237 - COME, thou Fount of every blessing, Tune my heart to sing thy grace : Streams of mercy, never ceasing, Call for songs of loudest praise : Teach me some melodious sonnet, Snng by flaming tongues above : Praise the mount — O fix me on it!

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