Messiah Pulpit, Svazek 6

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G.H. Ellis, 1901
Contains text of sermons delivered by M.J. Savage and others in New York City.
 

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Strana 3 - And the city lieth foursquare, and the length is as large as the breadth: and he measured the city with the reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The length, and the breadth, and the height of it are equal.
Strana 6 - I remember, I remember Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing ; My spirit flew in feathers then That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow. I remember, I remember...
Strana 3 - And Jacob said unto Pharaoh, The days of the years of my pilgrimage are an hundred and thirty years: few and evil have the days of the years of my life been, and have not attained unto the days of the years of the life of my fathers in the days of their pilgrimage.
Strana 11 - I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse, that bore thee slow away. And, turning from my nurs'ry window, drew A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu!
Strana 13 - A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come; but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world.
Strana 15 - And when the servant of the man of God was risen early, and gone forth, behold, an host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. And his servant said unto him, Alas, my master! how shall we do?
Strana 3 - Elijah came unto all the people, and said, How long halt ye between two opinions ? if the Lord be God, follow him : but if Baal then follow him.
Strana 7 - How many a father have I seen, A sober man, among his boys, Whose youth was full of foolish noise, Who wears his manhood hale and green: And dare we to this fancy give, That had the wild oat not been sown, The soil, left barren, scarce had grown The grain by which a man may live...
Strana 18 - Come to me, O ye children ! And whisper in my ear What the birds and the winds are singing In your sunny atmosphere. For what are all our contrivings, And the wisdom of our books, When compared with your caresses, And the gladness of your looks 1 Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said ; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead.
Strana 12 - Yet, oh, the thought that thou art safe, and he, That thought is joy, arrive what may to me. My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned and rulers of the earth; But higher far my proud pretensions rise — The son of parents passed into the skies!

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