The Poet's Tribute: Poems

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D. S. King and Crocker & Brewster, 1840 - American poetry - 325 pages

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Page 114 - Go to now, ye that say, To-day or to-morrow we will go into such a city and continue there a year, and buy and sell, and get gain : whereas ye know not what shall be on the morrow. For what is your life ? It is even a vapour, that appeareth for a little time, and then vanisheth away.
Page 324 - Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified.
Page 67 - And when he had made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen ; and poured out the changers...
Page 221 - When Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying, I am innocent of the blood of this just person : see ye to it.
Page 278 - THE peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord : And the blessing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you and remain with you always.
Page 141 - Mars' hill, and said, Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious. For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.
Page 164 - Who God doth late and early pray More of his grace than gifts to lend; And entertains the harmless day With a religious book or friend. This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise or fear to fall : Lord of himself, though not of lands, And, having nothing, yet hath all.
Page 285 - There is a home for weary souls, By sin and sorrow driven ; When tossed on life's tempestuous shoals, Where storms arise, and ocean rolls. And all is drear but heaven...
Page 286 - THERE is an hour of peaceful rest, To mourning wanderers given ; There is a joy for souls distress'd, A balm for every wounded breast — 'Tis found above — in heaven. There is a soft, a downy bed, 'Tis fair as breath of even...
Page 69 - Arise, O Lord, into thy rest; thou, and the ark of thy strength. Let thy priests be clothed with righteousness; and let thy saints shout for joy.

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