Our Christian Classics: Readings from the Best Divines with Notices Biographical and Critical, Volume 2 (Google eBook)

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Page 64 - On earth, join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If better thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, While day arises, that sweet hour of prime.
Page 55 - And on her naked shame, Pollute with sinful blame, The saintly veil of maiden white to throw; Confounded that her maker's eyes Should look so near upon her foul deformities.
Page 54 - THIS is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King, Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring...
Page 162 - He answered and said unto them, He that soweth the good seed is the Son of Man : the field is the world ; the good seed are the children of the kingdom ; but the tares are the children of the wicked one; the enemy that sowed them is the devil; the harvest is the end of the world, and the reapers are the angels.
Page 57 - 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 base of Heaven's deep organ blow ; And, with your ninefold harmony, Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
Page 60 - In vain with cymbals' ring They call the grisly king, In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; The brutish gods of Nile as fast, Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste...
Page 47 - That what the greatest and choicest wits of Athens, Rome, or modern Italy, and those Hebrews of old did for their country, I, in my proportion, with this over and above of being a Christian, might do for mine ; not caring to be once named abroad, though perhaps I could attain to that, but content with these British islands as my world...
Page 62 - AVENGE, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold; Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, Forget not; in thy book record their groans Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled Mother with infant down the rocks.
Page 51 - I deny not but that it is of greatest concernment in the church and commonwealth to have a vigilant eye how books demean themselves, as well as men, and thereafter to confine, imprison, and do sharpest justice on them as malefactors. For books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are...
Page 64 - These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair; thyself how wondrous then ! Unspeakable, who sitt'st above these heavens, To us invisible, or dimly seen In these thy lowest works; yet these declare Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine.

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