Unorthodox London, Or, Phases of Religious Life in the Metropolis

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Tinsley Bros., 1874 - Christian sects - 448 pages
 

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Page 139 - Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, The rain is over and gone ; The flowers appear on the earth ; The time of the singing of birds is come, And the voice of the turtle is heard in our land ; The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, And the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
Page 163 - But if ye had known what this meaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice, ye would not have condemned the guiltless.
Page 254 - Hear ye me, Asa, and all Judah and Benjamin: The LORD is with you while ye be with him: and if ye seek him, he will be found of you: but if ye forsake him, he will forsake you.
Page 411 - By thine Agony and bloody Sweat ; by thy Cross and Passion ; by thy precious Death and Burial ; by thy glorious Resurrection and Ascension ; and by the coming of the Holy Ghost, Good Lord, deliver us.
Page 359 - And David said to Solomon his son, Be strong and of good courage, and do it: fear not, nor be dismayed: for the LORD God, even my God, will be with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee, until thou hast finished all the work for the service of the house of the LORD.
Page 363 - Koran no forward glances to a coming golden age when the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the Lord as the waters cover the sea, such as irradiate the hymns and prophecies of the Old Testament.
Page 169 - There shall not be found among you any one that maketh his son or his daughter to pass through the fire, or that useth divination, or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch, or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or a wizard, or a necromancer.
Page 222 - And I am sure that when I come unto you, I shall come in the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ.
Page 278 - Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have a right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.
Page 412 - AT length the worst is o'er, and Thou art laid Deep in thy darksome bed ; All still and cold beneath yon dreary stone Thy sacred form is gone; Around those lips where power and mercy hung, The dews of death have clung; The dull earth o'er Thee, and thy foes around, Thou sleep'st a silent corse, in funeral fetters wound.

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