Roger of Fairfield

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Neale publishing Company, 1906 - American fiction - 269 pages
 

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Page 63 - That shepherd, who first taught the chosen seed, In the beginning, how the heavens and earth Rose out of chaos...
Page 97 - And speckled vanity Will sicken soon and die, And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould; And Hell itself will pass away, And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day.
Page 268 - Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning ; and ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their lord, when he will return from the wedding ; that when he cometh and knocketh, they -may open unto him immediately.
Page 96 - Ring out, ye crystal spheres, Once bless our human ears, If ye have power to touch our senses so ; And let your silver chime Move in melodious time, And let the bass of heaven's deep organ blow ; And, with your ninefold harmony, Make up full concert to the angelic symphony.
Page 250 - For man's illusion given ; The smiles of Joy, the tears of Woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow — There's nothing true but Heaven ! And false the light on Glory's plume, As fading hues of Even ; And Love and Hope, and Beauty's bloom, Are blossoms gather'd for the tomb — There's nothing bright but Heaven ! Poor wanderers of a stormy day, From wave to wave we're driven, And Fancy's flash, and Reason's ray, Serve but to light the troubled way — There's nothing calm but Heaven ! OH THOU WHO DRY'ST...
Page 102 - SM 1 riOME, ye that love the Lord, ^ And let your joys be known ; Join in a song with sweet accord, And thus surround the throne...
Page 268 - Take thou authority to execute the office of a Deacon in the Church of God committed unto thee; In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Page 64 - And chiefly thou, O Spirit, that dost prefer Before all temples the upright heart and pure...
Page 234 - so the Saviour cried, And meekly bowed his head and died: 'Tis finished ! yes, the race is run ; The battle fought ; the victory won. 2 'Tis finished...
Page 96 - tis said) Before was never made, But when of old the sons of morning sung, While the Creator great His constellations set, And the well-balanced world on hinges hung, And cast the dark foundations deep, And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep.

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