Flowers of sacred poetry, selected by B. Richings

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Benjamin Richings
1854
 

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Page 306 - THERE is no flock , however watched and tended , But one dead lamb is there ! There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair ! The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead; The heart of Rachel, for her children crying, Will not be comforted ! Let us be patient ! These severe afflictions Not from the ground arise, But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise.
Page 63 - THE bird that soars on highest wing Builds on the ground her lowly nest ; And she that doth most sweetly sing Sings in the shade when all things rest. In lark and nightingale we see What honour hath humility. When Mary chose the better part, She meekly sat at Jesus' feet ; And Lydia's gently-opened heart Was made for God's own temple meet.
Page 145 - At church, with meek and unaffected grace, His looks adorned the venerable place : Truth from his lips prevailed with double sway, And fools who came to scoff remained to pray.
Page 198 - One army of the living God, To his command we bow ; Part of the host have crossed the flood, And part are crossing now.
Page 145 - But in his duty, prompt at every call, He watched and wept, he prayed and felt for all; And, as a bird each fond endearment tries To tempt its new-fledged offspring to the skies, He tried each art, reproved each dull delay, Allured to brighter worlds, and led the way.
Page 116 - Pilgrim, burthen'd with thy sin, " Come the way to Zion's gate, " There, till Mercy let thee in, " Knock and weep and watch and wait. " Knock! — He knows the sinner's cry: " Weep ! — He loves the mourner's tears : " Watch ! — for saving grace is nigh : " Wait, — till heavenly light appears. " Hark ! it is the Bridegroom's voice ; " Welcome, pilgrim, to thy rest...
Page 58 - He is the happy man, whose life e'en now Shows somewhat of that happier life to come ; Who, doom'd to an obscure but tranquil state, Is pleased with it, and, were he free to choose, Would make his fate his choice; whom peace, the fruit Of virtue, and whom virtue, fruit of faith, Prepare for happiness ; bespeak him one Content indeed to sojourn while he must Below the skies, but having there his home.
Page 165 - THE BIRD, LET LOOSE. (AIR. — BEETHOVEN. ) THE bird, let loose in eastern skies,* When hastening fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam. But high she shoots through air and light, Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way.
Page 129 - Tis greatly wise to talk with our past hours ; And ask them, what report they bore to heaven : And how they might have borne more welcome news.
Page 156 - Live while you live, the Epicure would say, And seize the pleasures of the present day. Live while you live, the sacred Preacher cries, And give to God each moment as it flies.

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