"Threescore-years-and-ten.".

Forsideomslag
Masters, 1856
 

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Side 40 - Lo, the poor Indian ! whose untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind; His soul, proud science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk, or milky way...
Side 49 - ALMIGHTY GOD, with whom do live the spirits of them that depart hence in the LORD, and with whom the souls of the faithful, after they are delivered from the burden of the flesh, are in joy and felicity...
Side 47 - Beyond this flood a frozen continent Lies, dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms Of whirlwind and dire hail...
Side 135 - Who will render to every man according to his deeds; to them who by patient continuance in well doing seek for glory and honour and immortality, eternal life ; but unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doeth evil...
Side 23 - Here's to the Cause, to that Good Cause." The Words by the Rev. JM Neale. Set to Music in Four Parts, by AH Brown, Organist of Romford Church.
Side 116 - When I see kings lying by those who deposed them when I consider rival wits placed side by side or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions factions* and debates of mankind.
Side 53 - Thou fool, that which thou sowest is not quickened, except it die: And that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain, it may chance of wheat, or of some other grain : But God giveth it a body as it hath pleased him, and to every seed his own body.
Side 158 - Thou knowest, Lord, the secrets of our hearts; shut not thy merciful ears to our prayer; but spare us, Lord most holy, O God most mighty, O holy and merciful Saviour, thou most worthy Judge eternal, suffer us not, at our last hour, for any pains of death, to fall from thee.
Side 49 - But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of the unwise they seemed to die: and their departure is taken for misery. And their going from us to be utter destruction: but they are in peace.
Side 32 - The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, , The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.

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